


Progression, Change, Recovery

by fox2469101



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fox2469101/pseuds/fox2469101
Summary: A Veteran of a bloody Pokemon Universe civil war in a small island nation, (Mediterranean culture) he shares his story from his perspective as OC Protagonist, Diego, retells events surrounding much inner change in his life, as well as information regarding his nation and his role during the civil war, throughout the lengthy timeline of the short installment. An analysis of the ‘Pokemon War’ as a concept but more how that would affect society afterward, through the eyes of one regular ass dude. Pokemon is the property of Nintendo, Game Freak, etc - Likeness to other characters, fact or fiction is purely coincidental. You know that dig.Tw: Violence, Pokemon v Pokemon, Pokemon v People, People v People, Death, Corpses, War, Reenactment, Light m/m romance, PTSD Representation, Mature Pokemon universe,Sorry if its cheesy. Written for fun. Not my first fanfic, just my first finished one.Rachel (author)





	Progression, Change, Recovery

A Veteran of a bloody Pokemon Universe civil war in a small island nation, (Mediterranean culture) he shares his story from his perspective as OC Protagonist, Diego, retells events surrounding much inner change in his life, as well as information regarding his nation and his role during the civil war, throughout the lengthy timeline of the short installment. An analysis of the ‘Pokemon War’ as a concept but more how that would affect society afterward, through the eyes of one regular ass dude. Pokemon is the property of Nintendo, Game Freak, etc - Likeness to other characters, fact or fiction is purely coincidental. You know that dig. 

 

Tw: Violence, Pokemon v Pokemon, Pokemon v People, People v People, Death, Corpses, War, Reenactment, Light m/m romance, PTSD Representation, Mature Pokemon universe, 

 

The Trigger Warning for Violence is especially of note as the opening scene is a little graphic, ish. If your friend loosely recounting the opening of Saving Private Ryan would cause you harm, don’t read it. Instead, Ctrl+F and search “ “Right?” I asked, “ and this will skip this brief graphic scene. It’s really not so bad, but I know some people are really sensitive about this stuff so love to you. Spoiler alert, it's the only one in the story.

 

Sorry if its cheesy. Written for fun. Not my first fanfic, just my first finished one.

 

  * Rachel (author)



 

  * <\- this means that time passes, or in general that a scene changes.



 

  * (please enjoy your read) 



 




 

Our ship pulled into the harbor first, followed by the others. We’d been shelling this settlement for hours, and the Loyalist forces inside had all but been obliterated, or so it looked like through the portholes and binoculars. The little coastal town was mostly demolished, after all. We were wrong though. They’d set a trap for us. As soon as everyone had docked, one of the Loyalist’s Pokemon quickly used Ice Beam and froze us all solid in place, and then their ambush began.

 

They had sacrificed the city to lure us into it, so they could capture our ships. At this point, it was pretty late in the fighting, the Loyalist forces were cut off from their supplies and relying solely on what they could scrounge, loot, or steal from our corpses. Their machine guns ripped into action, and I was immediately grateful for my rubber boots insulating me from the hull as the whole ship surged with an electric shock. I ran upstairs, holding my rifle, but a huge explosion rocked our ship and I flew off the deck as soon as I was on it, into the water, my rifle sinking away into the blackness.

 

No sooner had I opened my eyes under the water as the bubbles cleared than I was tackled, a sharp point against my gut surrounded by a powerful force, pushing me through the water, dragging me deeper and knocking what little breath I’d held on to out of my lungs in an instant. My mind screamed, internal alarm bells ringing that I was drowning as the white mass of the Pokemon dragged me down. The harbor was not that deep, but it was plenty deep enough to drown in if I didn’t act fast.

 

So I did act fast. I pulled my knife from its sheath on my belt. I did what I had to do. 

 

That’s what I told myself, anyway. It wasn’t the only water type under the waves that day, so I scrambled for the ice block still riveting our vessels into a brick, sliding atop of it. I wasn’t noticed immediately, and slid along it to the wall of the harbor. There was a rope ladder, there. I wasn’t about to get back onto the ships, they were too high and smooth to scale. I leapt from the ice flow, swam only a couple strokes to the ladder, and scrambled my way up. I heard bullets start to whistle past my head, ricocheting wildly off the concrete of the harbor as soon as I touched it. I pulled myself to the top and rolled, picked up, and ran as fast as I could.

 




 

I’d found the machete a few dozen feet away, near what looked to’ve been their meagre lodgings, and followed the saw-like sound of the machine gun as it ripped into my guys. They were still battling it out, and I was fit to even the score. I swallowed hard, creeping through the gravel only when their fire covered the sound, though still trying to hurry before we were minced between their guns. I came to the Machop first; it’d been hauling ammunition. Then the gunner, then I took over the gun myself, and turned it on them. Right into their backs, the men beneath the nest. Then I turned that monster toward the other nest, on the opposite side of the harbor. I did what I had to do. I did what I had to do. 

 

“Right?” I asked, suddenly popping back into reality from the nightmare of a memory I’d been recounting. I raised a trembling hand to wipe my eyes. My voice cracking and betraying me with the word.

 

“Diego, thank you. I can see that this has been very hard for you to share.” Came the maternally calm, soothing voice of my therapist, Ms. Jacklyn Wade. I called her Jackie, she seemed to approve of the nickname, “Tell me, do you believe the cause of your actions was just?”

 

I thought a moment on it, “Yes. The Loyalist forces were tearing into us, we lost so many just on that one day, Jackie. It's not like I could just ask them and their Pokemon to stop shooting at us, pretty please. Right? And they wouldn’t have anyway! Shit, we’d been annihilating anything that moved on that whole side of the island from afar with our cannons for five days!” I exclaimed.

 

“Then I believe you may have answered your own question.” She said.

 

“But, what I did was so, so-” I said.

 

“Diego,” She interrupted assertively, “What you did was horrible. War is horrible. That rebellion, the vicious oppression and manipulation of the people on the part of the General; that was horrible, too. What you and the rebels did was unseat a dictator, and free your home. Our home. Because of what you did, Diego, as well as all of the others, people and Pokemon, my family and I and thousands, even hundreds of thousands of others like us were able to return home to the island, to have an election for a President who didn’t elect himself by force.”

 

“But at what cost, Jackie? At what cost?!” I said, surprising myself with how much I’d raised my voice in only a sentence. My hands were trembling again. Or rather, continued to do so.

 

Jackie was silent for a long moment, and her gaze dropped from me to the floor for a bit, then back to me as she said, “The cost of war is the most horrible part.”

 




 

I used to love riding the bus home from school as a kid, and looking out at the ocean. You can see it from pretty much everywhere on the island. I used to love the ocean. I don’t anymore, though. Not since the war.

 

I sighed, slumping down in my seat. Jackie had said we were going to have a colleague of hers visit with us next time. I signed some papers so it was all legal. I’m always down for paperwork, though most people hate it. I fought like hell for the laws that make the paperwork necessary, you know? Shit is important to me. I wondered what this other lady will be like, Jackie said she’d be nice.

 

When the General had first taken power from the parliament on the island, I’d been in high school. Just a Junior, no big deal. A scrawny surfer kid from a family of orange farmers. My family had had Pokemon all my life. Mostly grass types, but my father’s Growlithe was a common childhood playmate. I sighed again, unlocking my phone to scroll meaninglessly through social media updates I didn’t really care that much about. The bus hissed to a stop, I quickly glanced up to check if it was mine. It wasn’t, but I did see that there was a whole glob of people getting onto our half-empty bus. I scooted toward the center, placing my pack on the window seat, and returned to my phone.

 

Scarcely a moment later, I was interrupted from some okay-ish memes by a voice. I jumped and yelped a little in spite of myself. I nodded and slid over, pushing my bag onto my lap to let the person take a seat. I tried to go back to my phone but my hands were shaking, and I kept accidentally tapping on the screen several times when I tried to scroll. Frustrated at myself and my mental health, I gritted my teeth and returned my gaze out the window. At least I was close to home.

 




 

Home for me was a shitty apartment, near the shopping district of Center City. It’s named that because it’s at the center of the island. It’s mostly been given a tremendous makeover, but at one time this was some pretty fierce fighting. The war was only on this island, and some smaller satellite ones closely surrounding, (though they’re basically the same island, created by the same volcano, etcetera) our government doesn’t and didn’t work the same as the one in Hoenn, or Sinnoh. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. My dad used to say that.

 

My apartment is free, from the government, for a while. I think the agreement is for eighteen months or something. The rebels, that is, the people opposed to the dictatorship of the General, (of which there were many) didn’t really have any central infrastructure to speak of outside of military assets, which admittedly mainly consisted of stuff we stole from the Loyalists and repainted. Anyway, so what little leadership we had, (we mockingly called our leadership the War Council, since it was basically a bunch of smaller cliquey leaders bickering the whole time, this was a pretty funny name amongst the soldiers) brokered a deal that we soldiers would get free housing and free healthcare while we got on our feet again, since we couldn’t exactly sleep in our conquered bunkers and jeeps anymore, once the war was over. We also turned in all our weapons, begrudgingly for many, and there was a big televised celebration where they were publicly destroyed, melted into a huge hulk of steel by Fire Pokemon. Rumor has it, the war memorial is being sculpted from that steel, but it’s just a rumor. It was a pretty large cache of arms, but we naturally left out the ammunition so we didn’t cook it off and kill ourselves. That stuff had to be more carefully disassembled. Anywho.

 

So, home-sweet-home for me is mostly just a mattress I got for free from a hotel that was buying new ones, and some cardboard boxes used as basic furniture, plus an included-with-the-apartment refrigerator, and microwave. I had a couple of jobs right after I got here, made a little bit of money but nothing fancy. I keep losing them because I’m just absolutely terrified of Pokemon, now. Its so stupid. It’s like my head is broken or something, though Jackie insists it isn’t. Anyway, when I’m here I mostly root around on my phone and look for somewhere else to be. Parties, events, friend’s houses, literally anywhere else. I like the park real late at night, there’s nobody out, then. I can’t go to a lot of places, though, because of all the Pokemon.

 

I know, I know. Afraid of Pokemon? How lame, right? Well, you get Vine Whip’d or Flamethrower’d or Thunder’d and watch your friends do the same and not make it, then tell me how okay you are, alright? Anyway.

 




The appointment went well with that new lady and Jackie. That was a minute ago. I had an appointment with the new woman, today.

 

“Okay, thank you, sir. We’ll be right with you.” Said the woman behind the counter at Heather’s office. 

 

I didn’t make it to the waiting room chair before she called my name and had me take a turn down a hall to our left. Opening door number 3 for me, she said, “Enjoy your swim!”

 

“Thank you.” I said. Or thank you, I think. The room she let me into, closing the door behind me, was basically a U of nice, mint green tiles and a pool. I could see on the ceiling the mechanism that controlled a door which allowed privacy, but connection to what I assumed must’ve been a master pool, since there was light coming through underneath it, beneath the water. I sort-of knew what I was getting myself into, and had come with swim trunks underneath my pants and wearing two shirts, (yes, I’m a shirt-in-the-pool guy, - go ahead and judge me) I had swam several times since the war ended, but I was unsure how it would help me in my recovery.

 

I sat down in the chair in the empty room, not sure what to do with myself, and just as I began to anxiously pick at my chair, the door began to open. However, before it even opened all the way, Heather swam underneath and popped up, taking a big breath.

 

“Hello, Diego! I’m so glad that you could make it! Sorry I took so long, I had to swim over from the other side of the pool. How’re things today?” She said cheerily, jumping up out of the pool to grab a towel from a small shelf to dry her hair. She was in a one-piece swimsuit with shorts on over, which honestly in the context I thought was very professional of her. She certainly could’ve gotten away with a more scantily outfit, the way she was shaped. Her long, wet blonde hair and blue eyes, she looked like she was about to accept a medal for winning a triathlon. She was pretty. Not my type, but pretty.

 

“Um,” I started, looking out across the pool through the now entirely open vertical door, “I’m good. At least, today I am. I, uh,” I paused, feeling goosebumps crawl over my skin as I saw all of the Pokemon out in the pool, “I’m fine.” I finished, the sound coming out more like a question.

 

Heather strode over to the door, next to where I sat, and flicked a switch near my head that I hadn’t noticed. The vertical door began to close, lowering into the water once more. I reflexively relaxed and, though I didn’t recall having purposefully held my breath, felt like I could finally breathe. 

 

“So,” She started, sitting down on the edge of the pool with her legs in the water, “Did you want to get wet, or just to talk, today?” She asked, kicking her toes up out of the water and making a tiny controlled splash.

 

I thought about it for a moment, “I guess I’ll get my feet wet.”

 




 

“Wow, Diego. That’s an incredible story, so you were in school in South Village when the army came and rounded everyone up? Goodness, that sounds terrifying! How old were you, then?”

 

“Seventeen. They were taking everyone, even the girls. That’s when I knew the rebellion was real, or they wouldn’t be desperate for soldiers. And that’s also when I knew that there was a real chance to save our island. So, late at night on the third night, my friends and I left. They didn’t put a lot of effort into making sure we didn’t, so we were able to just stroll right out. We kept walking until we got to the rebel stronghold the army had told us about.” I said, staring into the light in the wall of the pool, watching the vision of the object swirl with the movement of the water. 

 

“Kind of ironic that they created an enemy through attempting to conscript you.” She said, shaking her head. Her blonde ponytail was an awkward half-dry and did a little flop. 

 

“Definitely. Five years of wartime, maritime service and one year of the war being over but there being no government, plus a few months of working odd jobs, and… here I am, I guess.” I said, shrugging. It did not feel at all that simple.

 

“Y’know you say it like that, and I get the feeling that you don’t feel in your heart that it’s all that simple, that cut and dry.” She said, turning to lock eyes with me, “Do you?”

 

I looked away from her gaze in a hurry, “I don’t know.” I replied softly. Ouch, she was digging deep.

 

Heather put a gentle hand on my shoulder, “That’s okay, champ. We’re gonna figure it out together.” 

 

I smiled in spite of myself. I hurt on the inside, but her kindness sure felt good, anyway.

 




 

“So, it's been a few sessions, do you think you’re ready to work with a Pokemon today, Diego?” 

 

“I suppose we’ll have to find out.” I said, pulling off my extra shirt and pants before gingerly lowering myself into the shallow, 4’ pool.

 

“Great!” Heather chirped, “I know just who to call!” She said, jumping out of the pool to rush over and flick the switch on the wall. As the vertical door opened, lifting from the water, she stepped over to the opening to holler over the larger pool, “Danny! Danny! Where are you sweetie?” She called.

 

A moment passed with nothing, before the water parted noticeably and a swiftly swimming fin rose above the water. 

 

“Oh no,” I muttered, “Oh no, oh no, not a Sharpedo, no no, please no…” 

 

Heather did not notice, and the shape closed with our pool very nearly in the blink of an eye, before suddenly and miraculously disappearing.

 

I was shaking, and I knew it wasn’t shivering because the water was warm. I also knew I needed to fight through the pain in my brain to get back to reality because logically I knew this Pokemon in particular wasn’t trained by the damn military to kill me, and everything was going to be fine, and -

 

A three-finned head melted into reality as it surfaced, lifting itself up on its front legs on the edge of the pool to coo and rub its head into Heather’s hand.

 

“This little cutie,” Heather singsonged, “Is Daniel, my Vaporeon! Now, Daniel, this is my friend Diego. Please be on your best behavior, okay?” She said, petting the little creature as it swam. He crooned after her request and cast a glance at me. It  _ was  _ cute. I’d seen a Vaporeon before, on TV, but never up close and certainly never during my time with the rebels.

 

“H-hello,” I stammered out like a buffoon, “How’re you, bud?” I asked, outstretching a hand, palm up like you would a dog.

 

The Pokemon swooped around, doing a backflip underwater before one sweep of its tail pushed it over to me, its soft head rubbing against my hand. I gave it a pet. It felt like the most pristine coat of wet fur a swimmer could ever want, and the fins I noticed were quite sharp but not weapon sharp. I smiled, relaxing.

 

“He’s cute.” I said, swallowing hard but standing by the statement.

 

Heather laughed a little, “Good. I think he likes you already!”

 

Danny gave a cute little croon in response, sliding up next to me and blowing some bubbles.

 

-

 

In the following weeks, Jackie and I turned our sessions towards people stuff, and Heather and I worked on Pokemon stuff. I had three sessions a week with each, now, which made for a whole lot of riding the bus. Which made for a whole lot of time spent thinking, and since my whole life revolved around sitting at the park alone, looking at the stars and wondering, I was doing quite a lot of thinking.

 

Y’know, it's a war crime according to international law to weaponize Pokemon for use against humans. It was established hundreds of years ago by the International Council that it was considered inhumane to the people and Pokemon, whose powers make their use in a battle versus humans wildly out of balance, many possessing far more power than the worst of man made weapons. The General didn’t care, though. That’s why our enemies had Pokemon and we didn’t. Sighing, I shook my head, my vision of the stars blurring. I forced the memories to the back of my mind and took to earlier that day. I’d completed my last session of something called EMDR therapy with Heather and her Lanturn. I didn’t really get it, but she said some medical stuff about how brains work that went over my head, and I  _ did  _ feel better after our sessions, so I guess therapy is therapy. Sure cried a lot, though.

 

The wind rustled through the trees gently, and I sighed, thinking now of my previous sessions with Jackie. My apartment was almost up, I only had a few months left of alloted time before I actually had to pay rent. My savings was trashed a while ago, and I was getting food from a Veteran’s specific charity, right now. So, the time had come to choose what I was doing with my life in peacetime. I never graduated high school, because of the war, so I couldn’t go to college. The island university had been destroyed in the war, anyway, and was only partially rebuilt and non-operational. 

 

So I could go to work, but I didn’t have any qualifications for anything besides basic labor. I would never rejoin the military after what I’d already been through. I’d done enough of that. Not that there was a military to rejoin, yet. The international community had generously provided us with a national guard force in place of police and local military while our nation got on its feet. At this point, most places have a full police force and the guard is pouring out by the boatload. Better late than never, I guess.

 

Honestly, I’d like to go to work for a charity, or a hospital or Pokemon center. Something worth doing, you know? I could care less for squeezing every last drop of money from customers in any industry. I wanted to do something honest. The word honesty brought to mind an image of Heather, swimming with her Pokemon. We had done a couple of sessions out in the larger pool together, just us and a pool full of Pokemon. In addition to her Vaporeon, a Buizel she had adopted from a breeder was being bullied by a Lombre. I intervened, separating them like children, and Buizel had been a staple of our sessions ever since. She liked me, Heather had said. 

 

Sighing, I rolled over on the park bench, onto my side to stare off into the dark trees at the edge of the park. No one much came out here, and the only lights were lampposts erected every so often along the path. Though they weren’t very bright. I layed there in the cool evening air and pondered some more, and I almost fell asleep. I must have at some point, because I awoke to strings on my face, tickling me.

 

Quickly sitting up, they receded and I saw a balloon with a bandage, seeming abandoned, hovering there next to me. 

 

“Looooo _ ooooon. _ ” a disembodied voice whispered. 

 

I quirked an eyebrow at the strange occurrence, this lonely balloon with two strings for some reason. I eyed it quizzically in the quiet dark of the park as it hovered there, gently turning in the stale, damp air. As it turned, the puff of white decoration on its head revolved, and, below the bandage looking X, I saw that the balloon actually had two beady black dot eyes. 

 

We stared at each other for a moment. It blinked at me.

 

“Looo _ ooooon. _ ” it whispered. 

 

I reached out and poked it gently, and it bounced away, teetering in the air.

 

“Loooon!” the Pokemon gently emitted, though I’m not entirely sure how. Weird. What a goof.

 

As I began to look away, the Pokemon’s eyes darted to the side to look behind me.

 

My brow furrowed and I turned back to look as well. There were more. A lot more. My skin crawled with goosebumps and I felt a shiver race down my spine as their eyes blinked at me silently in the dark. How long had they been staring at me? While I was sleeping?!

 

“Looo _ oooooon!”  _ Came the poorly aligned chorus of quiet calls from the bunch of them. The eerie sound in the empty park served to send another shiver down my spine, and I haphazardly stood, my resolve shaken. As I did, I turned to run away from the creepy Pokemon group, and I saw lights in the dark trees of the forest. Red, blue, yellow. Blinking, swirling, moving, darting back and forth. I screamed, and ran as fast as I could as far as I could, all the way back to my apartment building, 22 blocks away. 

 

I collapsed onto the ground near the front door of the building, panting. I hadn’t run like that since I’d been running for my life. Perhaps I just was once more. I shuddered, another shiver curling down my spine. What the hell just happened to me? What was that Pokemon? Why were there so many? What were those lights in the forest? For the first time in years, since I quit, I was craving a cigarette to calm my nerves and give my anxious, shaking hands something to hold. I settled for shakily standing, and riding the elevator back to my apartment to go to sleep. The alarm clock on my bedside cardboard box table read 3 a.m.

 

What the hell just happened?

 




 

I couldn’t sleep, so I just lay awake that night, doing research on my phone. There was a nationwide program to de-arm the people, people were protesting in the capital, at the northernmost point of the island, seven or eight kilometers from Center City, as the Sparrow flies. A drive or bicycle ride would be much more than that. I sighed, rolling over and flipping to a different tab on my browser. A bicycle was way more than my pathetic finances could afford, right now. Annoyed, I closed the tab and returned to my research. There were also Pokemon Centers in every city, now, something that hadn’t been the case even before the General’s coup and the rebellion and subsequent conflict. 

 

Further, there were two dedicated Pokemon research laboratories on the island, researching various Pokemon and aspects of them, as well as raising Pokemon for young trainers. Both were corporate sponsored by massive, off-island energy corporations. The one in Ceraph City claims to breed and offer, on its website, three Pokemon for Trainers to choose from. The Grass-type Pokemon Treecko, the Water-type Pokemon Totodile, and the Fire-type Pokemon Charmander. The other, located in Dolan Town, offers the Grass-type Pokemon Turtwig, the Water-type Squirtle, and the Fire-type Cyndaquil. They were available for free to trainers ages 10 to 20. Trainers over that age could still collect a free Pokedex device from either facility. I sighed, unsure of myself. I’m almost 24 years old, so I’m much too old to become a Pokemon Trainer as well, apparently. So much for that ray of sunshine. I annoyedly closed both facility’s websites, sitting up in bed.

 

The Pokemon I had encountered in the park was likely the Ghost-type Driftloon. Photographs of it match what I saw. The internet says it is known as the ‘Balloon Pokemon’ - no surprise there, - A Pokemon formed by the spirits of people and Pokemon. It loves damp, humid seasons, which it is here all year. Because of the way it floats aimlessly, an old folktale calls it a “Signpost for Wandering Spirits,” which is just about the creepiest thing I’ve heard in years, since there were easily a dozen of them floating there in the park around the bench. Nothing I read explained what they wanted with me, though. It just didn’t make any sense. Ghost-type Pokemon were supposed to be rare. I sighed, swiping away that tab of research as well.

 

Why were the Driftloon so interested in me? What were those lights in the forest? I glanced out the window, noticing a change in the color of the clouds. Dawn was breaking, and my alarm clock read 6:31 a.m. I had therapy in a few hours, so I supposed it was about time to find a cup of coffee and breakfast. I sighed, standing wearily from my bed. I’d been on my phone all night since I got home from the park. I sighed and headed for the shower; maybe that would clear my head?

 




 

I didn’t forget about that night in the park, and I told Heather about it. She seemed very interested, though the topic quickly became more about how I’d gone out of my way to learn about a Pokemon as opposed to being triggered by it during our conversation. I’d also decided I was going to become a Pokemon trainer. From what I’d read, most trainers started as kids and then usually went into more standard careers, carrying their experiences with them. I had interests in a couple of charities, but before I could even interview for jobs, I had to travel. I’d turned in resumes and had a few phone interviews, admittedly the only charities that were interested in working with me were veteran’s benefits but still, that was something, and I really had made progress in therapy and if I had to do something to support myself, it may as well be something I gave a shit about. 

 

Being a Pokemon trainer came in with the traveling; I had no other method than my bus pass, which would expire sooner rather than later, and my feet to travel with, since I couldn’t afford a car or even a bicycle. This would expose me to the elements, not to mention take a much larger chunk of time than any other mode of transportation, and I wasn’t about to escape from the whims of the wilderness, given that most people travel around the island to different clusters of towns and villages on boats, and then travel by foot, bike, or automobile between towns. It was very difficult to travel solely on land, due to the lack of roads and even basic routes in most places. Boats also were not free to charter for travel, and I wasn’t about to do something crazy and stow away on a vessel bound for who-knows-where. The beauty of doing things the legal way is that you take significantly less risk of accidental death, injury, or being spirited away to a foreign nation. 

 

Anyway, Heather and I had previously discussed my getting my own Pokemon to care for as an aspect of therapy, less in the interest of battling or competitions and more towards being a sort of companion animal. In my travels, without the intent of catching Pokemon or battling, the only role my being a trainer would play would be in defense from the more dangerous wildlife. Beedrill comes to mind, for example. Not to mention this hopeful therapeutic aspect.

 

Heather and I were discussing options for Pokemon when a small shape twirled through the little gap underneath the lowered vertical door, and swam up to the surface with aplomb. It was the little Buizel who’d taken a liking to me. She squealed and took a big breath, inflating the little sac around her neck and gingerly floating, her twin tails twisting in the water to propel herself closer to where we were standing, leaning against the wall of the small pool.

 

“Hmm,” Heather hummed, before wordlessly jumping up out of the water, leaving our previous conversation hanging.

 

“Hey, where are you going?” I asked, casting a glance over my shoulder as Buizel’s fuzzy little noggin made contact with my hand. I gave her some scritches and rubbed her soft, wet fur. Buizel purred and pushed into my hand in kind.

 

“I’ll be right back, I have to go get something from my office. Just one moment!” came the reply, followed by the sound of the door to the hallway shutting behind her, cutting off any attempted further inquiry.

 

Heather returned to the room in just a moment holding something behind her back. She didn’t get in the water, and instead stood behind me and asked, “Diego, would you say that you and Buizel are friends?”

 

I cast an inquisitive glance over my shoulder before replying by turning to ask, “Buizel, we’re friends, right?” 

 

“Buizel!” came the affirmative reply from the Pokemon. Or at least, I’m pretty sure it was affirmative.

 

“Yeah, of course we’re friends. Why?”

 

“Because I think we’ve solved the problem of what and where to find it your first Pokemon, Diego!” She said, and brought out from behind her back a rolled belt with one Pokeball in its small form attached in the center of the curl, “I think you should have this, and take Buizel as your first Pokemon! Buizel has spent a lot of time here, and interacted with other patients and my coworkers, and I’ve never seen her connect with another person like she has with you. Perhaps it's because of that incident with the Lombre bullying her and your stepping in, or perhaps it's because you’re so gentle and patient with the Pokemon where lots of people aren’t, but either way, Buizel really likes you and I think you should take her!”

 

“What?! Really?” I asked, turning my whole body back to look at her in disbelief, “Buizel, do you wanna come with me and be my Pokemon?” I asked, changing my gaze over to look down at the little Pokemon. Buizel hugged my chest and nuzzled me, crooning in response.

 

“Well I guess that settles it, Diego. Congratulations, you’re a Pokemon trainer! That’s pretty incredible when you think about where you started in therapy with me.”

 

“Yeah, it sure is,” I breathed, petting Buizel on her wet little head, “Thank you, Heather! Thank you so much. I don’t know how I could ever repay you!” 

 

“You don’t need to. I can only take care of so many Pokemon and do my work here, and this Buizel really does have a connection with you. I’ll see you for only a few more sessions before you said you were going to start to travel, so in between, I’d like you to think about which Pokemon research facility you would like to go to for your Pokedex, and doing a bit of research on catching Pokemon and battling probably wouldn’t hurt, even though you don’t really have an interest in those aspects of being a trainer.”

 

I pulled myself up out of the water and Buizel followed. I gave Heather a drippy pool hug and she gave me the rolled belt, which I now saw also had space for five other Pokeballs to be attached and carried. I turned looked down at Buizel, “Should I put her back in the ball for the bus ride home?”

 

Heather shrugged, zipping up a thin hoodie over her swim clothes, “I dunno, Buizel hasn’t been in the Pokeball since before I got here. She’s used to sleeping in the water with her neck sack fully inflated, or in one of the dry Pokemon beds we have out back.” She replied, putting her hand on the doorknob leading into the hallway, “You should ask her! But I have another client in here in fifteen minutes, and unfortunately our time is up for today, and Buizel can go home with you.”

 

“No problem, no problem, thank you again so much, I’ll be right out!” I assured her and she thanked me, closed the door behind her and left. Buizel was absently playing in the water and so I just went ahead and changed into my dry clothes real fast. Sometimes it can be weird changing in front of a Pokemon, I’ve heard, but Buizel was oblivious. 

 

“Buizel?” I inquired, her dextrous tails shifting her weight around in the water to look at me quizzically, “Miss Heather says it's okay if you go home with me tonight. Would you like that?” 

 

“Buiz, Buizel!” she chirped happily, clapping her little paws together. 

 

“Okay, do you wanna go inside the Pokeball, or ride the bus home with me?” I asked, peering into her intelligent eyes. She seemed confused by the question, probably not having even heard of a bus before, having lived her whole short life here and with the breeder who’d raised her from a Poke egg. I just made the decision for her for today.

 

Standing, I pulled the miniaturized ball from the belt, it seemed to be held by magnetic force, and pressed the button on the front of it like I had seen done by others before. This Pokeball was blue with red blotches on top, on the back was shallowly stamped into the steel, ‘POKESUPPLIES INC - MADE IN JOHTO - GREAT BALL’ and then a serial number which meant nothing to me. The Pokeball inflated to a bit bigger than a standard Baseball, maybe smaller than a standard Softball. It was certainly a comfortable throwing size, which I knew to be by design. I turned it in my hand, so the button faced outward, pointed the little button down at the Pokemon, and said, “Buizel, return!” Like I’d seen on television. A directional red light beamed from the button on the front of the Pokeball, touching Buizel but not seeming to cause any discomfort, as she’d gone back to playing in the water and didn’t even react. Her entire body lit up in the same glowing red light before she evaporated, and the ball seemed to suck the light back into itself. 

 

I eyed the strange little thing curiously. What kind of science made that process work? That seemed to break the laws of physics. The ball didn’t even feel heavier. I pressed the button on the front again, and the ball shrank once more. Again, no noticeable change in mass, only in volume. So, so weird. I pulled on the belt over one shoulder, since my pants actually fit, and pulled the magnetic spaces down by my hip. I placed the minitiarized ball back in its magnetic slot in the front, put on my jacket, and headed off on my way. I walked out of that office a real, honest to goodness Pokemon trainer. I never would have thought I’d see the day. 

 




 

As soon as I got off the bus in at my usual stop to go home, I was walking toward the markets. It wasn’t very late in the day, I had plenty of sunlight left, and even though what I had available was meagre, I needed to go shopping. I picked up a few groceries, but mostly Pokemon food was the most important item I was out for. I made sure to go to a special shop and get Buizel formula, specifically. Which was significantly higher priced than generic Water-type Pokemon food, but I expected that. I spend more to get higher quality food for myself, too. Well, I mean, I get the good brand of Ramen noodles? Anywho, I also got her a ball, (Buizel had an attachment to a small blue rubber ball, but we’d left hers at Heather’s clinic, so I made sure to get her a new one) This was apparently called a chew ball and had a bubble of air sealed inside the sphere so it would float. I also got a map, so I could plot my journey. My cell phone also wouldn’t always have service outside of the cities, so it was a necessary backup, anyway. A few other odds and ends, and I returned to the apartment to show Buizel home for the first time. Home for about a week, now, then I’d be roughing it to… I’m not sure where. I had a small list of cities I would have to stop in for interviews I’d scheduled once arriving in town, so the trip would revolve around that schedule and the way I traveled, to and through which places on the way would have to reflect that. So, naturally, I’d procrastinated until now. What was I doing? I’m not really sure. That’s depression. Woop. I had a little more shopping to do the next day at shops who’d closed before I got to them, so when I got in I let Buizel out of her Pokeball. She ran around the apartment excitedly for only a bit before settling down on a towel in the restroom after a soak in the bathtub. I didn’t make her, she just curled up and fell asleep there, I swear. I put blankets out, but she wanted towel in the bathroom. Sue me. Anyway, leaving the door open, I went to work on my route.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


I sat down at my kitchen counter with my list of destinations and the spread map. https://imgur.com/a/7FZLbIV 

So, I was in Center City, (which as you can see is most definitely not at the center of the island) and my bus pass could take me to most places on the mainland. So, in planning the route with my bus pass, I needed to go East, to Flatfield Village, first, followed by returning to Center City only to take the bus South to Twin Harbor. This first half wasn’t much of a trip, but budgeting in for stops and such, I reasoned it would still take me an entire day. The next day, after returning late to my apartment here in Center City, assuming I had not gotten either job I was venturing out in hopes of acquiring, on the following day I would have to travel north, to Myriad, the Capital of our nation, where I had two different job interests. If that fails, the Pokemon research facility in Dolan Town, to the west of Myriad, was taking trainees for a couple of different vocational, Pokemon related occupations, all of which ended in the very same legal certification you needed to become an aide in a Pokemon Center. So, I had fallbacks to my fallbacks, I guess. I folded my map into my bag, along with my notes about the routes, made sure I had everything I needed in my bag, and before I went to bed, I curiously peeked out of the window toward the park. I couldn’t see anything, it was too dark and partially obscured by other buildings, but I remember the hair on the back of my neck standing up. You know, the way it does when you’re sure someone or something is watching you?

 

I shook off the shivers, checked on Buizel who was bent into a spine-twisting feat of a sleeping position but otherwise fine, and went to bed. I left the light on, though.

 




 

My first day trip to Flatfield and Twin Harbor went poorly. It rained all day, and I got turned down for both positions. I was feeling overall pretty lousy, my anxiety peaking over what might’ve been the reason and what might happen the next day, and wondering what if I didn’t find a job, or what if I became homeless, or what if this, or that, etcetera. You know how this stuff works, by now. Anyway, Buizel hadn’t been out of her Pokeball all day so I let her out as soon as I got to the apartment. I drew her some new, warmer bathwater to float in and promised we’d go swimming soon. At least she seemed to really like the species specific Pokemon food I got for her. I tried a tiny loaf and it wasn’t too bad, tasted kind of like some sort of unidentifiable vegetable, but like, kibble texture. I sighed, tired physically but not worn down enough from the day for my mind to settle. 

 

I used to go and sit at the park on nights like this one, and stare up at the stars and wonder, or listen to the bugs and the birds of the tropical island evening sing songs in the park. I frowned out the window at the dark hunk of park that was still visible even 22 blocks away, admittedly, my apartment building  _ is  _ the tallest building for that entire distance, but still. If I went and encountered those Driftloon again, at least Buizel could protect me. And if the ‘signpost _ s  _ for wandering spirits’ have wandered off, then I guess everybody would be happy. I thought on it for a moment before I decided I’d eat first, then go. Then Buizel could have her warm water before she dove into the pond at the park.

 




 

I arrived at the park, it being nice and calm and desolate, and let Buizel out of her Pokeball. She predictably wanted to swim immediately, of course, so I sat on the bench near the pond. The pond in our park was fed by a creek which led through the forest, and according to local legend would take you out to an old ruin of a stone-wall farmhouse from the earliest days of settlement on the island by humans. I’d never trekked out there to find out for myself, but that’s the story. Anyway, it was a very moonlit night, but not a full moon. I don’t remember what phase, now. Anyway, I spent more time watching Buizel than I did looking at the stars.

 

A pair of strings, ending in little pale heart shapes fell gently over my left shoulder, and I screamed, jumping up off of the park bench and whirling around to find that the whole mob of Driftloon had indeed returned! 

 

“Just what do you want?!” I hollered at the one hovering closest to me, who’s strings had slid off my shoulder.

 

“Looooo _ ooooooon.”  _ came the murmured reply, followed by a reciprocative moan from the bunch behind it.

 

“I don’t understand why you don’t just go and bother somebody else!” I said, stamping my foot on the ground. My clenched fists were shaking and my trembling skin was rife with goosebumps, but I was determined not to back down. 

 

At this point, Buizel had noticed I’d suddenly started to shout, and come over to put her tiny little paw on my leg, pointing the other up at the Driftloon and, sounding inquisitive, said, “Buizel Buiz?” 

 

“Buizel, I know we’ve never done it before, but we might have to battle them!” I said, and the lead Driftloon shrank away, cowering into its pals. Buizel looked at me funny and jumped up onto the park bench so that she could be roughly face level with the Driftloon. She proceeded to have a little conversation with them, her babbling her own name off, them returning in kind, and so on. How do Pokemon understand each other when all they can say is their name? And who gave them their names? I guess since it's all they say, they did, but that still doesn’t explain how they communicate.

 

Buizel turned back toward me, pointing a paw toward the dark of the forest, now behind me, “Buizel!” she squeaked, pouncing off of the park bench and grabbing ahold of one of the Driftloon by its strings, yanking it along with her in one paw, pointing at the forest with the other. She looked at me, pointed at the Driftloon, which was still protesting her dragging it around quietly, and pointed back at the forest, jumping up and down a little in place. 

 

“Something important, in the forest, and that’s why the Driftloon are here?”

 

“Buizel!” she replied, stepping over and using her pointer paw to yank on the leg of my pants, “Bui Bui Buizel! Buizel Buisel!” 

 

I turned back toward the pack of floating purple Pokemon, “You want me to go into the forest for you? Why can’t you go?” I asked, trying to understand through this impossible language barrier. Imagine having a conversation with a four or five year old, but the only word they can say is their name. That’s sorta what this is like. 

 

Buizel stopped pulling on my leg and all of the Driftloon’s eyes had traded places and become little half circle shapes, concave side down, and began bouncing up and down, as if the Pokemon were nodding. Oh, the woes of interpreting the emotions of a creature whose whole body is also its head. Buizel was nodding and continuing to point. 

 

“I think you should really understand that I do not wanna do that at all.” I said flatly.

 

Buizel pouted, and single handedly changed my mind in that moment. I decided to trust her.

 

“Okay, fine. I’m not fixing to die here, though, okay? Seriously.” I said, taking a few ginger steps forward. Buizel and the Driftloon she’d captured in her little mitt led the way. I assumed Buizel was taking some kind of direction from the other Pokemon but that might’ve been giving the two of them a little too much credit. I tossed a glance behind me, toward the rest of the Driftloon, and they were huddled in a bunch around the park bench, still. 

 

“Hey, how come they’re not coming?” I asked, still looking back at them. My eyes adjusted a little better to the dark, though, and I could see, even from the few dozen meters away that I’d walked, the answer to my question. Those Pokemon were scared.

 

The forest wasn’t really a forest, it’s actually a large chunk of forest which led up the mountain, out of the city, around the edge of which the city had built the park I visited so often. So, hypothetically, we could walk forever and only get more and more lost, in here. I knew some edible plants and berries, basic survival skills like lighting a fire, first aid, etc, but not enough to survive for too long. I wondered what the heck was going on and why the heck I’d trusted a Pokemon to lead me through the woods whilst yanking along another floating Pokemon, (which to be honest, under less terrifying circumstance, would’ve been hilarious to see, -  _ boink, boink, boink _ ) 

 

We stepped over the creek, and began to follow it. A little ways down, Buizel stopped, and I wasn’t sure why until I followed the little weasel’s gaze. Looking up, I saw a tree stand, of the military variety. It was Loyalist equipment, leftover from the war. It looked like it’d at one point been tall enough to just barely see over the canopy, but now it was lost in the foliage. Buizel pointed up and I strained my vision. I couldn’t see anything. Then, suddenly, a shape moved! 

 

The little shape plummeted downward and judging from its silhouette, I would’ve thought it was a rock in a cloth or some other such thing, until it just stopped and hovered there, the bit of cloth seeming to move. It had a horn on top of its head, and it’s eyes began to glow yellow as it glared at me. 

 

“Bu, Buizel water gun!” I stammered, and Buizel spewed a pressurised lancelet of water at the thing, which I assumed to be a Pokemon.

 

The Pokemon let out a horrible, worse than nails on a chalkboard screech that pierced the night. It was Driftloon’s turn this time, though, and it reared back, its strings still in Buizel’s clutch, and rushed forward with more speed and power than I ever would’ve imagined out of a Driftloon, bouncing its little balloon body off of the other Pokemon hard enough to send the other careening into the ground. It didn’t move. 

“Haha! Way to go, Driftloon!” I said, jerking an arm in the air, “Payback’s a bitch, yeah?” I asked the limp form on the forest floor.

 

Buizel wanted to go ahead and continue, but I asked her to wait on me and I climbed up into the tree stand. I was immediately sorry that I did.

 

There was a man there. Or, what used to be a person. Mostly stringy, hardened flesh and bones, though, and it didn’t really smell. I’d seen a dead person before, lots of times unfortunately, but this one had died a long, long time ago. Probably during the war. There were bullet holes in the tree stand. They punched through the low steel walls of it from the outside, in. I assumed that must’ve been what killed this person. What was left of the uniform, though I was  _ definitely  _ not gonna touch it, looked like it was Loyalist, matching the camouflage pattern of the stand, itself. I went through their supplies, finding all kinds of great survival goodies like a compass, a nice knife, plus their clothes. This person was a man, size Medium. I transferred the few small items to my own messenger bag, and left supplies I couldn’t use like his uniforms and extra undies. I noticed that his belt had magnetic spaces on it for Pokeballs, like the one Heather had gifted me, though his didn’t have any. He also didn’t have a weapon, which to me meant he’d probably been looted when he was killed for that stuff. I picked up the dusty, weather-ruined baret off of the floor, presumably where it’d fallen, and gently laid it over his face. Enemy or not, he was resting, now.

 

Jumping back down, Buizel and Driftloon and I returned to our trounce through the forest. We were headed South, almost directly, following the flow of the creek which fed the pond. I wondered briefly as we walked if perhaps it’d been a bad idea to follow Buizel into the damn woods at night. I wondered how long we’d been out here. If that one Pokemon we saw were why the Driftloon were so scared, or if there was something worse yet to find. I wondered how much longer I’d be out here, since I had traveling and junk to do. I wondered if I’d survive to do it.

 

The inky black of the shadows contrasted heavily with the bright, glittery pure light of the moon. It was a constant backwash of this contrasted background, battling for attention over the colors and motion of Buizel and Driftloon. Soon, though, the trees lightened up and we came upon the remains of a house. The walls appeared to be stone, and looked far older than our recent conflict, so I had to assume this was the house I’d heard rumored still stood out here in these woods. What a coincidence.

 

“What’re we here, for?” I asked, looking down at Buizel

 

The sound kicked into motion two shadowy shapes from within the house, which flew rapidly out toward us on the yard. Buizel seemed to know immediately what to do, letting go of Driftloon and pushing it away from the creek. 

 

“Buizel, water gun!” I yelled, and the rodent Pokemon obliged, shooting one square on. 

 

“Driftloon! Whatever attack you did earlier!” I called, not sure what the hell I was doing but wanting to sound sure of myself, regardless. Luckily for me, Driftloon got what I meant, and it hammered another of the shapes straight into the ground. This time, though, it got up and kept battling.

 

“Buizel, use your quick attack!” I said, thinking changing things up would help the situation. Well, Buizel listened to me, and jolted up, up, up, through the air, off of rocks, straight into her target and then… totally through it in an instant, with no resistance. The strange Pokemon responded, its eyes glowing white and Buizel stopping to grab her head, shaking it back and forth like she was confused.

 

“Buizel, snap out of it! Let’s try… Pursuit! Buizel use Pursuit!” I called, trying a roulette of Buizel’s moves, now, (I’d looked them up on the internet and asked her which ones she knew) and she shook off whatever attack the strange, hovering, horned Pokemon was using on her and ran, springboarding off a rock near the creekbed, her nose glowing pink, and hammered into the little flowing, floating shape, sending it careening off and plowing into the stonework wall behind it. Likewise, Driftloon finished of it’s opponent in similar time, the air coming to a sudden, eerie stop.

 

**BOOM.** A massive concussive force rocked the front wall of the house from the inside, slamming apart the wall and its stonework makeup, rocks and mortar spraying in every direction like shrapnel. A spine curling screech screamed into the night, like a demon howling to the moon.

 

The dust began to clear and a shape clearly began to emerge. A long ponytail, oversized head and limp, toylike body. It’s glowing red eyes and dark pupils staring out into your nightmares, it’s face zipped shut with a great brass zipper into a perpetual grin. It’s long, shadowy sleeve arms and gold fluff tail of no concern as its eyes bore into mine in the night. I was lost in an endless void of despair. There was no home, no family left. All that mattered, ashes. I was alone. I was alone and I hated the world, I hated what it had done to me. I wanted out. To live no more, to find this peace, to -

 

I snapped out of it in an instant, falling down onto my ass on a chunk of wall and immediately throwing up. Good thing I’d eaten before I left. The massive puppet Pokemon was facing attacks from both Buizel and Driftloon, and they were winning. Two against one has the advantage, even against demon puppets it would seem. I didn’t even call out, I let them smash the Pokemon down until it’s sickening shadow-figure self fell down and stopped moving. Even then they chose when to let up. I turned toward the house, dizzy from my exposure but selfishly unwilling to miss exploring. The Pokemon were resting by the stream, which twirled lazily behind the house, and I stepped into the half destroyed house to explore. 

 

The shadow puppet had only massacred one wall, and the other three were relatively intact, though the roof had fallen in many, many years prior, and probably many years prior to the move-in of the house’s current residents. The corpses of more Loyalists. It was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen. Two grunts, sitting on the side of a bed. Both with brains splattered against the wall behind them, looked like they had been tied up. Some desk jockey asshole officer behind his desk, pistol in his hand, the contents of his head poured in red over the wall behind him, as well. This time, self inflicted. He’d killed his comrades and then himself, the sick fuck. I picked up his letter off the table.

 

He thanked his mother, regretted not marrying some girl before he enlisted, and admitted that he’d executed Rhino and Fabio, the  _ prisoners,  _

 

“Oh dude,” I said, glaring at the dessicated corpse, “You’re an asshole.” I growled, the silence of the night refusing to offer counterpoint.

 

Then, he prays that someone will forgive him, and signs. He shot himself because the rebel forces had captured Center City and were coming up the mountain to capture his position. Dozens were killed at the foot of the mountain, where the park probably stands, now, by sniper fire as this spot was defended, and it was only taken after a week and a half long slog. I sighed, setting the crusty paper down on his desk again, which was unscathed, much like the rest of the one-room house, from the Pokemon attack. 

 

A thick layer of dust coated everything that hadn’t been washed clean by frequent tropical rain, which was to say, not much. Speaking of which, I had no idea how the papers on his desk had survived, that seemed illogical. Anyway, though, besides the corpses and the officer’s desk and chair, there was also a small stack of shallow but wide rectangular crates in front of the bed. I crouched to read the paint stencil labels, with only one piquing my interest. I shuffled the top half of the stack onto the floor to pry off the lid.

 

It was almost entirely empty, but there were a few left bundled in one corner; Pokeballs. I picked one up, pressed the button to inflate it back to regular size and tossed it onto the floor. No Pokemon flashed out, it just popped open and clattered on the uneven floor. Empty Pokeballs, probably a significant number of them. I tried to remember the price for Pokeballs the last time I went to market and I couldn’t. I’d never bought them before. Regardless, I picked up the one off the floor and returned it to miniature size. I stuffed them into my messenger bag and returned the stack of crates to its original place. I had eleven Pokeballs. I covered the faces of the corpses again, not that they hadn’t already been disrespected by being left here in the first place, and eyed the shadowy form of the zipper-face Pokemon and grinned. I pulled one of the Pokeballs from my bag and tossed it at the form of the spectre creature.

 

“Pokeball, go.” I said flatly, the ball bouncing off from the Pokemon’s unconscious form and being sucked in with a familiar red light. The ball’s button glowed the same tone of red for a moment before it made a soft little ding and went back to normal. I grinned, picking up the ball and miniaturizing it before snapping it onto my belt, way in the back. I caught the other ones, too. The smaller, flowing fabric one with the horn. I know it’s dishonorable or whatever to catch them while they’re out cold, but these needed to be locked up. They were going to hurt someone. I stepped through the rubble of the front wall and around the corner to where Buizel and Driftloon were camped out by the creek. They stopped chatting with one another as they noticed me approach. I couldn’t have understood them anyway, but that was pretty awkward.

 

“Hey, guys, thanks so much for rescuing us from that creature back there,” I said, timidly.

 

Driftloon floated over toward me and bumped airily into my shoulder, “Loooo _ oooooon. _ ” it said. It really did feel like a balloon. Buizel was standing in the stream, her tails idly sweeping back and forth behind her. She seemed tired but otherwise appeared to be doing well.

 

“So, uh, was that the scary thing that all the other Driftloon were scared of?” I asked, glancing between the two.

 

The Pokemon looked at each other, Driftloon loon’d at Buizel and Buizel looked at me and nodded, “Buizel!” 

 

“So now you guys can go back to roaming the forest, or whatever?” I asked, eyeing Driftloon. The balloon shaped Pokemon just blinked at me, and our wordless exchange of nothing was interrupted by Buizel tugging on Driftloon’s string, and swiping her own Pokeball off of my belt before I could protest.

 

The little wet weasel mimed the Pokeball flying, hitting Driftloon, and even squeaked out a ‘Ding’ stand-in sound. How did she know how a Pokeball worked?

 

“You think I should catch Driftloon?” I asked, and she nodded, “Driftloon what do you think?” I said, eyeing the balloon. I really hadn’t planned on having more than one Pokemon but Driftloon really did save our asses back there. Of course, then there were the other three Pokemon I was carrying around that I didn’t know what to do with.

 

Driftloon turned idly toward Buizel, “Loo _ ooon looon! _ ” the Pokemon murmured, and Buizel squeaked out her name, nodding enthusiastically to me.

 

“Okay then,” I started, pulling one of the empty Pokeballs from my bag and brushing dust off of it, “You’ll just have to come with us,” I said and gently bounced the ball off of Driftloon. It bounced away, opening and dispensing a bright red light that overtook Driftloon’s delicate form, encapsulating the Pokemon before sucking it and the red light back into itself. It wiggled on the ground for a moment before the button changed back to it’s non-glowing state. 

 

I stared at the ball for a moment, “Thank you so much, pal.” I said, miniaturizing the ball and fastening it onto my belt, this time in the front. I took Buizel’s ball from her and she seemed grateful to return to it. I would need to visit a Pokemon center soon so those two could get some medical attention. I’d seen them both take hits from all four Pokemon we’d encountered, here. First, though, I was going to have to make a call. Or wait to make a call, until they were open.

 




 

I called the Lost Valor Reclamation Coalition, usually shortened to ‘the Coalition’ here on the island, since LVRC isn’t a very catchy acronym. Basically, when people find old relics of the war like what Buizel, Driftloon, and I had found in the forest south of the park, the Coalition comes in to spirit any bodies left away to their respective memorial cemetaries, and attempts to contact any living relatives of the diseased so there can be some closure and a respectful funeral. We have a bunch, unfortunately, and we as a people make sure that Loyalists get the same respect the rebels do. It grinds my gears a little bit, but I’ll give it to the government for trying to mend fences after what was a shocking and brutal civil war. The official  _ current  _ government stance is that, ‘while the Loyalists and their leader went about it in horribly misguided, unethical ways, both the rebel and the Loyalist forces gave their lives to make our country a better place.’ Which is, frankly, a huge crock of crap, from where I’m standing, but whatever. Speaking of present government, the national de-armament movement was also being carried out by charity organizations like and including LVRC, and there was reward money involved for significant finds.

 

Anyway, so they were open for calls at 5 a.m. so I was in luck, (I hadn’t realized how much time it’d taken to have this little adventure!) and within another hour or so, there were several representative’s on site, trying to discern what should remain as part of the ruin and what should be taken away and disposed of. Not to mention the forensic experts who came in to look at the bodies and prep them for their journeys to their final resting places. I also got a reward, a check for two-hundred bucks! They didn’t believe my story about the ghost Pokemon, though, and I didn’t feel like risking the escape of one of the three, (oh yes, I’d also gone back and located the first Pokemon we defeated, and captured it, as well, for a total of four)

 

The intern at the Pokemon center, a guy named Blake, helped me learn how to use the Pokemon Storage System while Nurse Joy helped my Pokemon. His hand on my shoulder, strong and sure, oh man, - I swooned, let me tell you. He was kind of short, with brown hair but bright green eyes and lots and lots of freckles, like a million of them! His cologne smelled like white grapes and wet bark, and just a hint of man-musk. 

 

Anyway, so, I stored those four Pokemon, which I learned were called Shuppet, (of which I had captured three) and Banette, (the big scary one with red eyes) - the computer system had known their names already. I suddenly realised how inconvenient not having one of those encyclopedic Pokedex things was for a trainer, even a lax, not-interested-in-your-pointless-fights one like me. Apparently being in the PC was like being asleep forever, and honestly I might just be depressed but that sounds way nice, to me. I left the Shuppet and Banette alone in the PC and took Driftloon and Buizel home. I needed to sleep. Very badly. Even if it was only for a few hours before our bus left, we needed to rest. The Pokemon and I had been awake all night. Admittedly, for Driftloon that’s probably normal, but my point is, I needed sleep. Coffee wasn’t gonna cut it. So after the LVRC and the Pokemon center, I dropped by my bank and deposited that check into my account so it’d show up on my card, and went back to the apartment to sleep. I let both Pokemon out of their balls and flopped onto the bed. I didn’t even take my shoes off before I fell asleep.

 




 

I awoke with a pounding headache to the phone ringing.

 

“Diego,” I answered.

 

“Diego Alvarez?” The woman on the other end queried.

 

“Yes?” I answered, confused and groggy from sleep.

 

“Well, I’m calling from Myriad Pokemon Reserve and Rehabilitation Center to let you know that after your appointment time  _ two hours ago _ , where you did not make an appearance, we at M-P-Double R-C have decided to consider other applicants for the position. Thank you, good day.” She finished curtly, and hung up the phone.

 

Shit. I’d slept the entire day away. I cast a glance out of the window, and the sun was still shining, but I could tell from it’s position on the horizon it’d be sunset before long.

 

I fed the Pokemon. Driftloon wanted a whole banana for some reason, not Pokemon food. I thought that was super weird. I went to the restroom and came back and what was even weirder was that it was gone. Just gone. What’d Driftloon do with it? How does a balloon eat? What even are these creatures?

 

As if sensing my confusion, Buizel nosed my knee and gave me her ball. I threw it down the hall and she chased it just like a puppy. 

 

Oh, that’s right. Wonderful, that’s what these goofy little monsters are.

 




 

We returned to the road late, and I missed the other appointment I’d had today by a fair margin. I was on the bus, on my way there, when they called wanting to know where I was. I didn’t get that job, either. So I was out of job contacts, then. No surprises, there, really. I frowned out of the window of the bus as I rode west, for Dolan Town. The northern part of the island was mostly tropical grassland, split by the fingers of the delta of a river which came from afar down the side of the mountain. The grass was long, the bridges over the rivers seemed feats of modern engineering, (the ancient stone ones were destroyed during the war, these were what replaced them) they shone bright white, high tension suspension bridges designed to use minimal materials, have a minimal impact on the environment, and still carry their own weight plus that of passing motor vehicles. They were pretty incredible. The north end of the island is also populous with sand bars, some unseen just beneath the waves, and others just barely poking up at high tide, and there was a significant string of them outpouring from the delta, or so it looked on the map and out the window. Anyway, it looked like a wartime ship had beached itself on the sand bars, just a little ways out to sea from the island. Less than a hundred meters, probably. It looked to have gotten beached while turning around the tip of the island, and you could probably have waded out to it from the looks of it. It was a pretty incredible sight, this great rusting hulk out there, baking in the summer sun. However, despite all the people I’d seen on the beach, not only was this unspoiled bit of beach totally barren, but so was the ship, from the looks of it. Not even someone with an obnoxious stick taking selfies. That struck me as strange, people love to explore this stuff, and it was so rare that a relic from the war would be just sitting out in the open like that, too.

 

As we drove on past, I forgot about it, going back to musing in self-pity about how I’d lost all of my job opportunities with my own sleep negligence. I cursed myself over and again for that. No one would even give me the time of the day without those references and I’d wasted the good word of my friend circle to get some extra Z’s. I sighed in tandem with the hiss of the bus’ breaks as we came to our stop.

 

“Dolan Town!” The driver called out, and I stood with only a couple of others to shuffle off the bus. 

 

I asked one of the others who got off the bus at the same stop with me, a fisherman, which building in town was the Pokemon research laboratory. There only appeared to be about a dozen or so, but he said none of them when I gestured. He directed me instead to the trees to the southeast of town about a kilometer. Told me if I headed that way, I couldn’t miss it. So, that’s what I did. After a bit of traversing over untrodden ground, I saw the lab up upon the hill, nestled against the trees, and found the path leading there. Fences stretched out from it across the tropical grassland, lush and wet, and looped back, making the laboratory seem less like a scientific research facility and more like an industrial styled ranch getaway, or a film set from a movie set on an alien planet. 

 

Walking up to the red front door, it slid open to the left, into the wall, and out of the way for a moment. I stepped in and the inside of the facility was breathtaking! Most of it seemed taken up by all manner of whacky looking equipment and computers, not to mention the obligatory stacks of books, (matched with half-empty book shelves all around the room) placed randomly, and desks occupied by nothing more than what appeared to be unorganized, loose sheets of paper. I could see over all the desks, though, through the tall sliding glass doors which made up the back wall of the facility. Pokemon were outside, playing in the grass and trees harmoniously. My observations were interrupted, however, as a blonde guy in a lab coat stood up from behind one of the machines. His face was dirty, smudges of something black, grease or soot, maybe, blemished his fair skin. His blue eyes were warm, a deep and ocean-y blue. He adjusted a pair of square, flat black framed glasses with one hand and set his crescent wrench down with the other, his eyebrows furrowing together grumpily and spoiling his pretty face.

 

“Can I help you, sir?” He snipped, his voice sounding almost stereotypically scientific in its nasally tone. 

 

“I’m a new Pokemon Trainer from Center City and I-”

 

“Tch,” The scientist scoffed, interrupting me, “You’re  _ way  _ too old, bud. Pokemon are only for new trainers ages 10 to 20. Like, no offense.” His sarcasm took from his nasally tone a bit. A nice change.

 

I ignored the interruption and repeated myself, “I’m a new Pokemon Trainer from Center City and I’m here for my Pokedex, please.” I said, keeping my voice level and watching the scientist’s face drop, “I’m also eager to meet with Professor Boxelder, if I can. I witnessed something strange and caught some Pokemon that I’d like him to at least hear about.”

 

The blonde scientist frowned at me, leaning on the machine he’d been servicing, “Well, my name is Ian, I’m an aide to the Professor, here. He’s supposed to have been back two hours ago, but has not yet returned. He is down in town, not sure what he’s up to, though. I can get your Pokedex for you, at least.” He said, seeming relieved to be leaving the machine alone. His white coat twirled away with him as he stepped across the linoleum floor to one one of the numerous stacked cardboard boxes throughout the laboratory, dwelling in place in varying states of dilapidation. 

 

Ian bounced back to where I was lingering near the door, beaming a smile that made my cheeks a hair hotter. 

 

“Here is your Pokedex Mister, uh,” he began and then paused, eyeing me for a response as I took the device. It had a Pokeball image printed onto it, and was a red rounded square, identical on the front and back. 

 

“Thanks, Ian. I’m Diego, by the way. You don’t need to bother with mister or anything,” I replied, shuffling my feet and feeling awkward.

 

“Well, I can help you set up your Pokedex if you like, and if you’re so inclined I’d be more than willing to let you hang around while we wait on the Professor.” he said, flicking a careless wrist nonchalantly to gesture around the room. So, um, if I may ask, what happened that you wanted to speak to Professor Boxelder about?” He asked as he tidied a spot at one of the desks for me to sit at before returning to his miscellaneous mechanized project. His kindness and demeanor gave me the impression of guilt over his initial attitude.

The Pokedex slid open vertically, the square separating into two shapes, held apart by a stretch of glass which glowed with all kinds of fancy holographic facets. I used it to scan the Pokemon out the window. This thing was going to take a while to familiarize myself with, but I knew from my reading that it’d be most indispensable in familiarizing myself with my own Pokemon. Buizel and Driftloon. It was still pretty amazing that I’d caught my own Pokemon, after so much time disinterested in them as a subject entirely, after so much time at the whim of my trauma, before I’d gone to therapy and got my life back. It’s pretty incredible how people change. Anyway, I also had just started on my battle with the first Shuppet in the forest south of the park when the Professor arrived, and Ian, having been riveted, enthusiastically encouraged I start over for the Professor.

 

Professor Boxelder was a hairy hulk of an old man, and all of his fluffy white chest hair puffed out of the top of his shirt. It was  _ not  _ cute. His circular lensed bifocals sat high atop his round nose, and his face was covered by a few days worth of not shaving scruff. He was gruff and rude with his aide, and with me, and I immediately did not like him. However, Nurse Joy in Center City had recommended I show the Ghost-type, (‘cause that’s what they were) Pokemon I had captured to him. Apparently Professor Boxelder is a leading authority on the life cycles of Pokemon, meaning birth through death, but I assume not specialising in evolution, like the lab I’d read about in Kalos. 

 

Professor Boxelder didn’t believe my story, though Ian did, and we looked at the two Shuppet and Banette, and we did notice something odd about them we couldn’t place. So, using a machine that actually worked in the laboratory, we sucked them through time and space, (or however that thing works) from the Storage System and analyzed them inside this little hologram thing, rotating above a table in space. Ian told me the machine would create a simulated recreation of your Pokemon, so that it could be analyzed at the researcher’s behest, as opposed to the Pokemon’s or it’s trainer’s. I also might’ve mentioned being jobless at one point. Sue me.

 

“Alright, kid,” the old man growled, still staring at the data floating in the air near the hologram of my Banette, “Ian, I need that damned machine up and running.” He said, and Ian’s shoulders slumped. I reached out and put a gentle hand on his back, and he tensed at first under the touch before relaxing, but didn’t pull away.

 

“You, new guy, I have a job for you if you want it. I’ll pay you.” said the Professor, finally choosing now to turn from the projection. Not faster than I distanced myself from Ian, however. That poor guy. I got the impression Professor Boxelder was a workplace bully.

 

“I’m fielding offers, I suppose.” I replied, Ian moving off to do his work.

 

“Good, now then. You saw, of course, that beached ship out on the sandbars to the east of town. On your drive or walk in, or whatever?” He asked, scratching his chin.

 

“Yes, sir. I did see it.”

 

“So, you noticed also that that portion of the beach is entirely void of swimmers, and even the waters nearby are void of fishermen and other boaters. Like people and wildlife both avoid the spot.” He asked. I exchanged a glance with Ian, though I’m not sure what was exchanged.

 

“I hadn’t examined it quite as thoroughly, but, I had noticed the empty beaches.” 

 

“Well, at any rate, I’d like it if you could investigate why that is. Should be a simple enough affair, I expect. Pay is to be administered after you’ve discovered it, and dealt with whatever the problem is.” He finished, nonchalantly returning to the data outputted in regards to my Banette before I’d even replied.

 

“Sure I guess,” I said, rolling my eyes and walking out of the lab through the sliding red door. I sighed, exasperated. That guy was wholly rude and uncouth. I frowned, looking out over the little town and the ocean. The beached ship was even visible from here. I shrugged off the stress, supposing that at least Buizel would get her swim, today. 

 

As I stepped away, though, Ian stepped out of the front door and stopped me. The door closed behind him and we were without the Professor again.

 

“Diego, what was that about?” He asked, placing both hands on his hips and cocking them to the side.

 

“What was what about, Ian?” I asked in return.

 

Ian’s face flushed and he seemed flustered, “I, I, you, I, the hand, on my back…” He stammered before trailing off, staring at the ground.

 

“Ian, I was just trying to be reassuring. You seemed really bummed out and, frankly, the Professor acts like he’s a major jerk even on days I’m not here.” I said unapologetically, waving a hand casually in the direction of the lab building.

 

“Diego, there’s something you should know about that ship out there,” he said, changing the subject and I suspect masking his uncomfortability, “Fishing boats have disappeared for getting too close, and swimmers have been disappearing for the same, as well. That’s why its been given a wide berth. The authorities can’t do anything about it, there’s not even anyone to investigate. There also aren’t any career Pokemon trainers in the area, even us here at the lab, so no one has been able to even go out and investigate. You should take this.” He finished, handing me a strangely shaped device I’d seen before. It was a rebreather. A kind of filter that allowed you to breathe underwater without major equipment. It was only good to a certain depth, but it was still indispensably useful. It mostly consisted of a mouthpiece and some kind of filtration device which stuck out to the sides horizontally. 

 

“Hey, thanks so much, Ian!” I said, “And I’ll make sure to be extra careful.” I assured my new friend. 

 

“Yeah, well,” he said, glumly, kicking at the dirt like he had other things to say. I stood there in silence waiting for a moment before I cut him off and ended our exchange with a sudden hug, and told him goodbye. I needed to visit the local Pokemon Center before I waded out to investigate that ship.

 




 

At the Pokemon Center, I got some attention for my Pokemon from Nurse Joy, even though they had just been checked before I arrived in town at the last Pokemon Center, and got us a room - no single bed rooms, though, so I placed my things on the one bunk of four I decided was mine, quickly changed into clothes I could walk to the beach and then swim in, and headed on out. I had the belt on over my shoulder again, and in my swim trunks, flip-flops and t-shirt, I probably looked hilarious. Oh well. I slipped off to the back of the Pokemon Center where there was a battle arena drawn out on grass, and a very small, but clean and clear pond. I wondered briefly if bad storms exposed it to seawater and made it technically a tidepool, but I left the thought as soon as I’d found it, other things on my mind.

 

I dropped Buizel and Driftloon’s Pokeballs onto the ground and they popped open with white light, both stretching as much as they physically could, since balloons don’t really have limbs to stretch. I pulled out the rounded red square Pokedex device and pointed it at one of the Pokemon, Driftloon, (Buizel was already in the pond without being prompted) The device glowed across a line at its center, and then the top half of the embossed Pokeball emblem rose, revealing a sort of half screen, half hologram displayed upon a piece of glass or crystal hidden within the outer red casing. A circle appeared as I pointed the device, like a crosshair, and as soon as I could see Driftloon through the center of the glass, it beeped and appeared to be loading.

 

“Driftloon. The balloon Pokemon. A Pokémon formed by the spirits of people and Pokémon. It loves damp, humid seasons. Because of the way it floats aimlessly, an old folktale calls it a ‘Signpost for Wandering Spirits.’” A cheerfully AI-assistant esque robotic voice said. 

 

I let out a low whistle, running my fingers through my hair. This was quite the piece of hardware, I could see everything from statistical data to my Pokemon’s movesets, even on down to precise individual temperament, and special abilities which is different from moves I guess. I ran inside to scan the Nurse’s Pokemon, an Azumarill, but I didn’t get all of that information for her. It seemed from the explanation in the ‘Options and Help’ menu that I would need to catch a Pokemon before I could learn in-depth data like that about them. The Pokedex could, however, give me general info like Pokemon types, common temperament, relative power level, and a list of possibly known moves, ranked most to least likely given the data from the analysis. Still incredibly useful. Why the hell did they give these out for free to kids? Wow.

 

“Hey, Buizel!” I called, getting her attention. I let the clear screen’s loading circle land on her as her head curiously popped up out of the water at my call. She stared for a moment before diving back in, but the Pokedex completed compiling even faster than her attention waned.

“Buizel. The sea weasel Pokemon.  It has a flotation sac that is like an inflatable collar. It floats on water with its head out. When it dives, its flotation sac collapses. It spins its two tails like a screw to propel itself through water. The tails also slice clinging seaweed.” Explained the polite computer voice of the Pokedex. 

 

“Huh,” I said to myself, “I didn’t realize that’s what that yellow thing is for.”

 

I scrolled through the accumulated data on my two Pokemon. I suppressed the itch to go out and catch more just so I could learn about them, and was scared by that urge having surfaced at all. My Pokedex had some interesting entries for the Pokemon I caught at the abandoned farm, too.

 

“Shuppet is attracted by feelings of jealousy and vindictiveness. If someone develops strong feelings of vengeance, this Pokemon will appear in a swarm and line up beneath the eaves of that person’s home. It grows by feeding on dark emotions in the hearts of people. It roams through cities in search of grudges that taint people.” Said the Pokedex.

 

“Wow, creepy.” I breathed, tapping the next one on the strange display.

 

“A cursed energy permeated the stuffing of a discarded and forgotten plush doll, giving it new life as Banette. The Pokemon’s energy would escape if it were to ever open its mouth. It seeks the child who disowned it. Banette is the evolved form of Shuppet.” read the Pokedex.

 

I shuddered, “Horror movie stuff.” I said, goosebumps crawling down my arm and my spine shivering as I remembered staring into Banette’s bright, glowing red eyes and the thoughts and feelings I had that weren’t my own. It was nightmarish. I scrolled through Banette’s moves, and, sure enough, Night Shade fit the description. If I was at all interested in battling for sport, that might actually be a great Pokemon pick.

 

I sighed, and recalled my Pokemon, setting off for the beach.

 




 

“Driftloon! Let’s try and make things a little drier, use Gust!” I hollered, the sound echoing very strangely off the half-blown out portion of the ship’s hull. It had been shot and washed ashore on the sandbar whilst sinking. The massive hole is only visible from the ocean-side view of the vessel, which is why it appears intact from the road.

 

Driftloon murmured and focused its energy, whipping wind from within the hull of the ship outward, pushing our attacker back into the water, where Buizel was waiting.

 

The Pokemon that’d been stealing swimmers and small boats? Yeah, it's a Pokemon. Also, its something the Pokedex says is a Dhelmise. Haunted ghost seaweed and flotsam, basically, that swings around a massive anchor from a sunken ship as a weapon! It’s slow to rev up that kind of a massive attack, but its attacks had already left massive battle scars on the surrounding steel, the anchor gouging huge chunks out of the steel, ripping it apart with ease. The seaweed tendrils, though, those were plenty fast! I’d been Wrapped and squeezed hard, dragged under the waves to drown until Buizel sliced through the seaweed with her tails and rescued me, only a few moments ago. 

 

Now, we were trying to force Dhelmise out of the ship and into the open water so Buizel could get it in the back with Pursuit, a Dark-type move, super effective against Dhelmise, a Grass and Ghost type, (See, my Pokedex was teaching me stuff, already!)

 

Dhelmise swung it’s anchor up high, and tossed itself up, over, and out of the ship, flinging its light body behind the massive anchor as it lifted it up and tossed it out of the hole, and over the ship, onto the sandbar. Bad move.

 

“Buizel, flank it with Quick Attack and hit it with Pursuit!” I yelled, and I knew she heard me, so I didn’t care to listen for a reply, “And Driftloon, float straight up and out, occupy Dhelmise’s attention with Gust, but don’t get hit!” I called, and Driftloon’s little black eyes bounced once in a nod before it ascended. As for myself, I dove into the water.

 

I swam around the stern of the ship, flopping onto land just in time to see Dhelmise connect a hammer-hit with it’s anchor on Driftloon, and see Buizel now facing down the predatory produce.

 

“Driftloon!” I called out to my Pokemon as Dhelmise’s seaweed tendrils began to dance with Buizel. The weasel adeptly dodging the other Pokemon’s attempts to grab and Wrap, but only barely. Driftloon began to rise gently from the ground, and I was relieved it wasn’t a total knock out, because Driftloon was about to save the day.

 

“Driftloon, use Payback and finish it!” Another dark type move, Payback also returns previous damage dealt to the user, back to the opponent, and Driftloon was just about out of it, so Dhelmise was about to catch an Anchor-weighted Payback in the back. Try saying that five times fast.

 

“Buizel! Quick Attack, but come underneath Dhelmise, instead!” I called, and immediately regretted it. Buizel did not get what I meant, (I had intended to trip up the grabbing Dhelmise) and in her confusion, just snarled at Dhelmise some more, before belatedly using a Quick Attack like I’d asked, only to push right through the Ghost-type Pokemon, just like before with Shuppet. She was too close, and Dhelmise caught her in its Wrap attack. The weasel Pokemon squealed, whimpering in pain.

 

Driftloon was still gaining its bearings and I took a few step forwards, urging it to one more hit. I hated pushing the Pokemon so hard, it was obviously done battling, but I felt I had little choice. It was unbearably suspenseful as Dhelmise slowly began to turn, holding Buizel, and Driftloon began to rise and pull back, before finally surging forward with all of its remaining Balloon might and flattening the ghostly Pokemon straight into the wet beach sand. Buizel dropped with it, as its grip loosened with unconsciousness. 

 

I frowned, petting her on the head before returning her to her ball for some rest. I congratulated Driftloon, who raised a heart-ended string to pseudo high-five me. Driftloon watched as I casually caught the Dhelmise, so it wouldn’t just return to its old habits of, y’know, drowning people. My mind wondered briefly if it ate the people it killed.

 

Oh, that’s another thing, I didn’t find any corpses? Weird, I know. Not even bones beneath or around, or inside the ship. Admittedly, I could probably check again, later, since I’d been pretty busy up to a moment ago. Anywho, for now the mysterious threat from the old ship on the sandbar was gone, and I returned Driftloon, giving it a big hug first and thanking it for working so hard. I sighed, sitting down in the sand. I was going to have a swim around the ship, again. See if I couldn’t see anything remarkable before I headed back. The Pokemon were wipe-out exhausted, though. I frowned at the ship for a moment before a familiar voice called out from behind me.

 

“That was really something!” it called, and I turned to see that Ian had rolled up his nice slacks and taken off his socks and shoes to wade out on the sandbar to where I was.

 

“Thanks,” I said, “How long were you watching?”

 

“Only since the Dhelmise vaulted out of the ship and onto the sand trying to escape! That was incredible. I mean, it was 2 versus 1, but still. Bang up job.” He said, sounding nervous but giving me a thumbs up.

 

I shrugged, “I do not care. The waters on this part of the beach are safe. Or, safer.” I said, thinking about it a moment before going on, “Right? That was the thing that was taking people and small boats?” I asked.

 

Ian’s turn to shrug, “Well, I mean, probably. Let’s hope so.” He said, his expression getting darker, “I have a hunch something larger is going on here.” 

 

“Ooooh~” I said, wiggling my fingers at him, “Careful, now, Ian. There be Ghost-types in these here waters! Oo _ ooo _ ooh!~” I teased, stepping toward him to do a little half circle while wiggling my fingers like an idiot.

 

He laughed, shaking his head, “You’re too much, my guy.”

 

Without even realizing what I was saying as I said it, I said, “That’s what he said.” and winked at him, making unbridled eye contact.

 

Ian’s face reddened heartily and I chuckled, walking away from him. I needed to get to the Pokemon Center and away from that conversation. 

 

“Wha-where are you going?” He called, plodding along through the sand and surf after me.

“I have to go to the Pokemon Center,” I said, stopping to turn toward him, “Buizel and Driftloon fought really hard and need to be seen to. I’m surprised Driftloon didn’t pop after it got hit with that anchor.” I explained, “Dunno what your plans are. I’ll be at the lab soon to report, though, so,” I trailed off, taking my eyes from him, my gaze flitting across the horizon.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. I’ll meet you at the lab, I gotta take some samples! That’s what I’m really here for, not to watch you battle,” he said, rubbing one arm and looking at his foot.

 

“Oooh, not to watch me battle, he says,” I crooned, mockingly, “Gotta collect some samples, he says, - I see how it is.” I laughed, continuing to walk away. Oooh, nervous bravado is  _ bad, bad, bad  _ kids. Don’t ever try it. Not even once.

 

“Well, then how is it?” he called, scaring some Wingull who were pecking around on the shoreline.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know!~” I called back, sarcastically. I really needed to escape and get my head on straight. Or, well, perhaps I could choose a better euphemism, but you get the idea. 

 

-

 

I placed Dhelmise in the Pokemon Storage System while Buizel and Driftloon were being seen to. I sighed, practically melting into my chair. The air conditioning of the Pokemon Center was divine, and I didn’t realize how tiring that whole experience was. I could go for a nap, for sure. I had to go to the lab, though. At least I would get paid. I wondered candidly if the Professor would want to take Dhelmise.

 

Not that I would’ve minded, but the thought was cut off by the Nurse calling my name. We exchanged some brief words about the Pokemon at the shipwreck, (in a small town, word travels fast, I guess) but I just told her I was sure it’d been taken care of before leaving out the front door of the Pokemon Center. An athletic, like more muscles than _me,_ a grown ass man, athletic, young woman trounced past me, her Pokemon League hat pulled down over her eyes. I only noticed her because, like; dang, girl, pumpin’ some serious iron or what? Phew. That and she almost hit me as she ran into the opening sliding doors of the Pokemon Center, which was rather rude.

 

Anywho, the trail up to the lab was really pretty. The lab appeared to be nestled up a road between two farms, facing one another. One seemed to grow some kind of fragrant berry bushes, the other appeared to farm flowers, though knowing plants this could’ve been medicine, or dye, or any one of hundreds of products. They were really beautiful fields of flowers, though, is my point, and it was a pretty scenic walk. The fields were cordoned off by low stacked stone fences, using a kind of reddish volcanic stone commonly found on our island. As I was walking, though, someone screamed.

 

“What the fu-” I had begun to mutter to myself, staring off into the field of flowers and squinting, just as I was hit in the back by someone barreling partially over and partially through the low fence, right into me, continuing to scream. It was some girl, and there was a hissing Pokemon on her back, it appeared to be stuck in her long black hair.

 

“Geez, lady,” I grumbled, before I observed the situation, and her back as she ran down the road toward the Pokemon Center, “Oh, crap!” Welp, here we go.

 

I rose and ran down the path toward her, summoning Buizel from her ball into my arms. I was intrigued by the sensation of nothing and then something all at once as she materialized directly in my arms. She gave me a nuzzle in the neck and I thanked her, pointing her forward at the running lady in front of us, “Water gun, please!” I stammered out, my voice made funny from running after this poor hapless dame.

 

Buizel responded by jousting the poor woman in the back with a pressurized stream of water Nailing the Pokemon and by extension the girl, she toppled down into the dirt, face first. Oh, and this dirt was at least some part mud, now. I stopped just behind her, setting down Buizel, and trying to untangle the dazed Pokemon from the dazed woman’s mass of wet black hair. Using water might not’ve been the best idea. In frustration, I grabbed her hair together like a ponytail and whipped the mass of the bright green Pokemon out of it, slapping the heaping wet mess against the ground until her hair came free of it. 

 

Moving off of her, partially because I’d been punched in the gut because I kinda might’ve held her down a little while I “rescued” her, she rose and turned to throw a punch my way, but before she could, the little Pokemon who’d been attached to her hissed and popped back onto its eight legs, distracting the both of us. The girl slid behind me, but Buizel muscled up to the Pokemon like she was the toughest mobster in town. Puffing her chest out, she awaited my command. I pulled the Pokedex from my pocket and scanned the little critter.

 

However, while the Pokedex was loading, it lunged at Buizel. She dodged, and the girl and I both reflexively lurched out of the way, as well. 

 

“Buizel! Quick Attack!” I called, just as the Pokedex loaded.

 

“Spinarak, the string spit Pokemon.” Began the Pokedex as Buizel’s attack connected, “It spins a web using fine, - but durable, - thread. It then waits patiently for prey to be trapped. The web spun by Spinarak can be considered its second nervous system. It is said that this Pokémon can determine what kind of prey is touching its web just by the tiny vibrations it feels through the web’s strands. Although the poison from its fangs isn’t that strong, it’s potent enough to weaken prey that gets caught in its web.” explained the polite computer voice.

 

“So that thing is poisonous?” I said, alarm bells ringing, “Buizel, stay away from its fangs!” I called, which should be easy considering they’re bright fuckin’ red. 

 

Buizel lept away, snarling at the little spider who’s attention was entirely affixed on her, now.

 

“Let’s try another Water Gun!” I said, and just as she began to build up pressure, the Spinarak shot a long tendril of stick web at her from its mouth, and stuck it to the ground. It skittered away, staying too far for Buizel to hit it, and did this again, the two taunt tendrils of thread pulling Buizel in two directions and keeping her motionless. She flailed and only got more stuck in the web.

 

“Crap!” I said, trying to return her, but the red light of the Pokeball just glanced harmlessly off of the globs of web. The Spinarak moved in, hissing at its prey.

 

I did the only thing I could think of, and tossed a Pokeball at it. The ball bounced off of the Spider’s abdomen, casting it in a red light before sucking it into itself, lying on the ground wiggling, the button glowing menacingly. I ignored the ball, though, going straight for Buizel instead. 

 

I pulled the knife I’d acquired from the abandoned farmhouse in the woods, yanking it from the canvas sheath and setting to work at the sticky web wrapped around her body. She was scared and had tangled herself in it horribly. I pulled her from the web, even it’s organic durability yielding to a rusted knife, and held her close, her tail in my palm, rocking her like a baby. She shivered but seemed to appreciate the cuddle. 

 

I glanced down at the ball. It was just sitting there. Guess I caught a Spinarak. I continued to ignore it, turning toward the girl who was sitting on the fence she’d toppled over/through.

 

“Hi, I’m Diego.” I said, glancing at Buizel who was pretty okay, now, “I’m, uh, I’m a Pokemon trainer, this is Buizel.” I finished, introducing my Pokemon and I.

 

She sighed, “Hi, I’m Trisha. I’m a farmer. Thanks for rescuing me from that big bug, even if I am all wet and muddy, now. It fell out of one of the berry trees and onto me, and well…” She trailed off, looking over at the bit of fence she’d broken. Stone fence. Ouch. Admittedly, only a few stones had fallen out of place off the top, but still. Ouch. I was surprised she wasn’t bleeding.

 

“Yeah, it was pretty tangled in your hair. Sorry for holding you down while I got it out. I hope I didn’t rip too much of your hair out.” I said, wincing at the thought. I bent and picked up the ball with one hand, still holding Buizel. I stuck the spider to my belt behind Driftloon. If all else failed, I guess I could just PC it. 

 

“Eh,” she said, waving a hand, “It’s getting hot enough this summer, I think I might cut it all off anyway.” She said, standing. She offered her hand and I shook it. Her grip was firm.

 

“Trisha Filiano. Filiano Farms.” She said, pointing toward the farm full of berry bushes with her other arm, and now that I looked closer I did notice some trees in the distance. Had she really run that far? Poor girl, oh my goodness. “You ever need anything, you come and holler for me, okay dear?” She said sweetly.

 

“Diego Alvarez, and I will make sure I do. Thank you.” I said, the handshake slipping. I nuzzled Buizel again and returned her to her ball, and helped Trisha repair the fence. We said goodbyes, thank yous, and you’re welcomes, and then I returned to pick up the sheath to my knife, my bag, and kick dry dirt over all the mud, hoping to help it dry out. I returned to my walk up the hill to the lab.

 




 

“So you  _ did  _ find evidence it was eating folks?! Oh my gosh! That’s horrifying!” I said, covering my mouth and looking at the arrangement of chipped, broken bone pieces arranged on a rag in the lab.

 

Ian nodded, “Yeah, we’re not even sure how Dhelmise eats, let alone how it was breaking bones down to this to gobble  _ people.  _ This kind of thing is totally unknown to science.” He said, grimly.

 

“What about your other tests, Ian? Were our suspicions correct?” The Professor said, jumping in. He was holding a fat, smoldering cigar. The air didn’t smell like smoke, though, which made me speculate about the air filtration system in here. 

 

“Well, Professor, I think they came up positive but without physically testing the Dhelmise and possibly one of the other Pokemon you’ve caught, Diego, plus an uncontaminated control subject, we couldn’t really know for sure.” He said, frowning at the floor. My eyes were still transfixed on the bones. A Pokemon was eating people. This was horror movie material. 

 

“Were the bones maybe crushed, and then the bodies rotted away in the saltwater?” I asked, interrupting their train of conversation and thought.

 

“Definitely crushed, but if that Dhelmise has enough power to crush bones, then how did you survive battling it?” Ian replied, eyeing me quizzically and adjusting his glasses. 

 

I looked down at my legs, still wearing half-dry swim trunks, and sure enough, they had begun to bruise horribly in patterns that matched wrapping seaweed, but I had been walking all day and hadn’t even noticed yet, (I suspect I won’t move much tomorrow) so there wasn’t anything broken. Buizel also seemed fine after Nurse Joy looked after her. I shrugged.

 

“Anyway,” The Professor interjected, seeming annoyed I’d interrupted their scientific discussion with uneducated dribble, “Diego, do you think you could subdue Dhelmise one more time if you had to?” He asked, and I thought about it. We’d barely made it last time, though without the advantage of the water, maybe we’d have a slightly better shot. Of course, I could always try and get Spinarak to battle. I’d never tried to make a wild Pokemon fight me after catching it, since Driftloon had wanted to come with me, and seems to like me in its weird, ghosty way. I guess I could ask Pokedex or Nurse Joy what to do if I had a hard time. 

 

“Yes, probably, but I’d like to rest, first.” I said after some consideration, and they agreed. I’d come back tomorrow and in the morning I’d bring out Banette, which I expected to be easier, and in the afternoon when the sun was nice and hot, we’d go to a dry, sandy spot away from water behind the lab and knock down Dhelmise. That is, if they didn’t just  _ let  _ the science guys take samples off of them, which we all expected would not be the case. This meant that it was 2pm and I had absolutely no responsibility for the day. So, I was on my way to the Pokemon Center for that nap. Oh, and I got paid, and the Professor offered to pay me for my work again tomorrow, so at least that had worked out. Plus I caught a Spinarak.

 

-

 

Nurse Joy looked at my Pokemon, gave them back, and I headed over to my room down the hall. The rude athletic girl was there, lying on the top bunk of the pair opposite the one I’d claimed. A Pokemon was lying on the bed beneath her. I flopped onto my bed. She did not greet me or say hello, her Pokemon was watching me intently, however, and I decided to speak first.

 

“Um, miss, would you be bothered if I scanned that Pokemon,” I asked, gesturing, “With my Pokedex?” 

 

She looked up, sounding surprised, “Um, go for it.” She said to me, “Steele, stay here for one sec,” She said, presumably to the Pokemon, hopping off the bed and striding across and out of the room. 

 

“So your name is Steele?” I asked, raising the red square which slid out into its other shape. The blue Pokemon nodded.

 

“Golduck, the duck Pokemon. Golduck is an adept swimmer. It sometimes joins competitive swimmers in training. It uses psychic powers when its forehead shimmers with light. Often seen swimming elegantly by lake shores. It is often mistaken for the Japanese monster, Kappa.” The Pokedex offered, and I nodded before smiling back at the Pokemon who was still eyeing me.

 

“A Water-type, then?” I asked, and the Pokemon nodded, “Would you mind Poke company?” I asked, and the Pokemon seemed to shrug. I let Buizel from her ball. 

 

Buizel and the Golduck eyed each other quizzically. They sniffed the air, and Buizel waddled over to sniff the bed and Steele’s webbed hand. The blue Pokemon pet her on the head, and that was it, they were friends. Buizel jumped into the bed and lay down next to it, the two chatted in their talk for a bit before both were content just dozing. 

 

Just as I began to wonder where she went, she stomped back into the room, casting a glare my direction, she jumped up into her bunk wordlessly, not noticing our Pokemon had made friends.

 

I sighed, pulling up Spinarak’s information on my Pokedex. Whatever had crawled up her skirt and bit her wasn’t my problem. 

 




 

Ian came knocking around 6pm and tossed a wave at my nameless roomate, and woke me up from my surprisingly long nap.

 

“Hey Diego,” he said, stifling a laugh as I stirred from underneath the Pokedex I’d fallen asleep reading and had stuck with sweat to my face, “You, um, you maybe wanna go find dinner?” He stammered, and when I looked at him confused he added, “With me?”

 

I was up, dressed in clean clothes, (I fell asleep in my beach rags, dude) and had returned Buizel in her sleep and left in like, ten minutes. Ian had waited in the waiting room, idly chatting with Nurse Joy about a television show they both enjoyed. Nurse Joy seemed to exchange a look before she called, “Have a good evening boys!” cheerily, as if something was up. Maybe it was.

 

“So where’s good to eat?” I asked, eyeing the small village as we walked on the section of dirt named ‘sidewalk’ which was indecipherable from the section of dirt named ‘road.’

 

“There’s only two restaurants, but one is late night’s and breakfast, and is honestly mostly a bar that serves food when it's illegal to sell booze. So we’re headed to the other one, Villa de Fratre, it's a traditional name but they have normal stuff on the menu. It’s a small town.” He explained, shrugging.

 

“Oh, cool. I’m down for food. I bet the seafood on the menu is super fresh!” I said, jokingly.

 

“It most definitely is, be careful of the hot sauce though, it's made in-house and it’ll wreck your day.” He said, sounding more confident, now. Aw, is someone coming out of their lil scientist shell?

 

We got into the restaurant and seated ourselves. A waitress appeared with menus, and gave us lemonade instead of water. I, for one, was not offended in the slightest by this unexpected event.

 

“So, out to dinner, huh?” I asked, stirring my lemon rind into the glass. I’d eaten the fruit.

 

He eyed me, seeming like he knew what I meant but wasn’t sure what to say.

 

“What do you mean?” Ian asked, his eyes glowing innocently through his thick rimmed glasses.

 

I mimed him nervously asking if I wanted to go find dinner.

 

He rolled his eyes, “I just don’t like people. The Pokemon Center is a public place, the Professor is a dick. I just have anxiety.” He said, shrugging. He seemed fine at the moment, but I suddenly felt bad for teasing him.

 

“Oh, I see. Well thanks for being chummy, I appreciate it. I obviously haven’t many friends, locally.” I said, gesturing to the empty restaurant but meaning to gesture to the town full of strangers. He got what I meant.

 

“So, um, I’m curious, what’s home like, Diego?” He asked, looking down at his drink before returning his gaze to me.

 

“Uh, well, it’s that Pokemon Center, right now. I had one of the Veteran’s Benefit apartments in Center City for a long time, a year and a half, and all I owned was a hand-me-down mattress and noodle cups.” I said, laying back into the booth. 

 

He seemed surprised, “Really?” he asked, “You were a soldier? During the civil war?”

 

“Technically, it’s the Second Xoren Civil War, since we had another one about five hundred years ago, and again technically I wasn’t a soldier, I was an untrained guerilla, but yeah. We won, so I got to get treated like I was a soldier.” I said, frowning at the lemon rind.

 

“Wow.” Ian said, his eyes wide, “I mean, that must have been a difficult time. I didn’t even live on the islands, yet. I was still in school in Sinnoh.”

 

“Sinnoh?” I asked, changing the subject, “Where’s home for you, broseph?” 

 

“Eterna City. It’s um, it’s kind of in the mountains. Like in the base of the mountains. It reminds me a bit of here, sometimes, except everything here is so damn humid and salty all the time from the salt spray.” He said, and I nodded. I might love my island home, but sometimes the humidity is a bit much. 

 

“Did it snow there?” I asked, curiously. I’ve never seen snow in person. It doesn’t snow on any of the islands, even at the tip top peak of the mountains. Only Pokemon make snow here.

 

“Yes, it did. Seasonally, but it did. I liked that we had all four seasons in their archetypal forms. Wet springs, blossoming green summers, orange and yellow autumns, and frosty white winters.” He said, reminiscing. 

 

“That sounds beautiful.” I said, and he just nodded. We were making a lot of sustained eye contact. The waitress, however, didn’t care and plopped our plates down in front of us. I’d ordered an alfredo shrimp… thing, and he’d gotten some kind of cheesy, veggie thing.

 




 

I had snuck my card to the waitress to pay for both plates of food, trying to out-friend my new friend, because I’m a guy so why not compete at everything that  _ doesn’t  _ require being competitive? However, as we left the restaurant, Ian surprised me by handing me my debit card back. 

 

“How did you…?” I said, concerned. I had been upset that the waitress hadn’t given it to me, and hadn’t wanted to make a scene until I was on my own. I had planned to return for it in the morning, the whole, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry! I forgot it!’ routine.

 

“When I paid for the food, I got your card back.” He said, beaming at me. He had been prepared for my treachery! The nerve.

 

I huffed, swiping my card back from him and sliding it into my wallet before begrudgingly thanking him.

 

He put a gentle hand on my back, and looked me in the eye, a soft smile on his face. We stopped walking. After a pause, he said, “You’re welcome.” and he slid from the closeness, returning his gaze ahead. I had to swallow my heart, it had just about stopped. The feeling was very disconcerting. 

 

We’d walked on past the Pokemon Center and now were walking down along the beach, toward where the old ship was, still on the sand, but on the road this time.

 

We talked about a lot of things. Pokemon, our families. Ian I guess was part of some religious community, so his family was huge. Mine was very, very small to begin with, and now very, very dead. He thought that was terribly sad. I thought his parents neglecting all of their kids so they could have so many kids was terribly sad. We agreed both things were sad. I told him a little about the war. He told me about college in Sinnoh. Sinnoh seemed really cool, I had an urge to visit. Ian said if the opportunity came up, he’d take me. I said that was awfully nice considering I’d only met him literally today. He said I was worth it. I might have teared up right there, a bit.We watched the moon’s reflection on the waves twist and turn, the stars glittering down at us from above. 

 

We exchanged our coming out stories. His family was actually fine with it, apparently their wacko religion wasn’t one of the many who had a problem with his being gay. I didn’t really have much of one. I’d told my crew when I started seeing another guy, that was how they found out, and it wasn’t really relevant to anything else I ever spoke to them about, so it almost never came up again. I’d been on a couple of dates whilst living in Center City, but nothing ever materialized into permanence of any sort. Ian was trying to get his life together, too. He’d abstained from romantic or sexual drama of any sort until he got out of college. This was his first job outside of college, after months of searching literally the world over, and he really hated working with Professor Boxelder.

 

Apparently the professor was very talented at his work, which gave Ian a sense of internal conflict between disliking his job profusely because his boss was an asshole, and loving his job because of the work he got to do. He also talked for an hour solid about some science stuff I didn’t understand. I listened, though. 

 

The conversation finally slowed to a quiet lul, the sound of the ocean in our faces filling the empty space between us with spray and salt.

 

“Ian,” I started, “Was this a date?” I asked meekly, unsure of myself. We’d connected instantly, sure, but I  _ had  _ just met him today.

 

He looked at me with an eyebrow raised, “I dunno,  _ was  _ this a date, Diego?”

 

I shrugged, looking back out at the moon, “I don’t even care. I had a good time. I just, I guess,” I paused, looking for words, “Wanted to garner intent?” I said, my words coming out unsure in their timbre. I bit my lip.

 

“Well,” he said, leaning over a little to bump my shoulder with his, “Then who cares what it was?” He offered, grinning at me. The moonlight reflected off his glasses and obscured his eyes, but I knew they were meeting mine. After a short pause, I just laughed. He joined me in my chuckle. It was good. 

 

Not long after, we headed back toward the village. We didn’t hold hands or skip or anything, but we kept talking, and talking, and before I knew it, the conversation had turned from, “So how is being a Pokemon Trainer?” to “Thanks for dinner!” to “Okay, well, goodnight!” I almost couldn’t believe that had happened. I stood there in the dark, laughing like an idiot for a minute before walking into the Pokemon Center.

 

I smiled a dopey, happy smile at Nurse Joy, who smiled back and winked at me, and I vaguely wondered how much she knew for a moment before I slid back into my room, and onto my bunk. It was only about midnight, but it felt much later. That whole thing was so unexpected it felt like a dream. Heck, now that I was back in the dark Pokemon Center, perhaps it was.

 




 

“Excuse me, sleeping dude,” Came a woman’s voice, sounding upset. I opened my eyes and found my roommate standing next to my bunk. I looked up at her grumpy expression, bleary eyed.

 

“Yes?” I croaked groggily.

 

“Is this thing yours?” She asked, upset, turning to reveal Spinarak on her back. I was surprised she wasn’t panicking. 

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, I think so.” I stammered, reaching over the edge of the bed and into my bag for my belt and Spinarak’s Pokeball, muttering, “How’d you get out of your Pokeball…?” I found its ball and returned it, though Spinarak squeaked unhappily at being separated from the girl. 

 

“That thing woke me up!” She said, and I noticed for the first time that she was in a set of striped pajamas, “I don’t know what it wanted, or why it wasn’t in its ball, but control your Pokemon, trainer!” She huffed, returning to her side of the room.

 

“I’m really sorry, miss.” I said, “I’m sure it didn’t mean any harm.”

 

“I know it didn’t, which is why I’m upset at you. That Pokemon needs training, at the very least to stay over there.” She said, snidely.

 

“I just caught it yesterday, which was admittedly a very busy day for me.” I offered in defense, hopelessly awake now, “So you have my apologies, and I will get right on that.”

 

“Whatever,” She muttered, sitting down at the little table in our room where some books and a glass of water were set out. She was studying or something. Guess I hadn’t noticed they’d been left there last night. 

 

I glanced out the window as I stood and stretched. The sun was just barely rising, and the clock said it was about 5:30am. Geez, Spinarak, could you have gotten up any earlier? I sighed, poking through my duffle bag for some basic breakfast preparations. 10 minute skillet biscuits and a packet of instant, just-add-water gravy was breakfast, today. I noticed my roomate eyeing me as the smell of the food filled the room. Then I heard her gut rumble. 

 

“You want some breakfast? I’ve got enough to share.” I said cheerily. Ah, yes, food. The ultimate peace offering.

 

She sighed behind me, “Why?” She asked. Ah, this one is perceptive.

 

“Because I heard your stomach growl, and, also, I’m still sorry.” I admitted, turning around with the first loaded paper plate and setting it in front of her with a plastic cutlery pack from the lobby, (knife, spork, napkin; the essentials) 

 

I sat on the counter, my plate on my lap, “So what’s your name?” I asked.

 

The girl sighed again, “Lyra. L-Y-R-A.” She said, spelling it out, pronouncing the name like lie-rah. 

 

“I’m Diego,” I offered in between bites, “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Thanks for breakfast.” She said, standing to toss her disposable dishes into the garbage. 

 

“Anytime,” I said, doing the same, “So where you from?” I asked, just trying to be friendlier than the cold, stale silence we’d shared previously. 

 

She turned and gave me a glare, “Look, dude, you’re old. And I appreciate the breakfast, but like, I have a boyfriend.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder coldly.  _ Oh!  _ She thought I was hitting on her. Haha.

 

I laughed, “Oh, sugar, I like boys.” I admitted, grinning at her, “I mean, not to insult you or anything but your double X chromosomes aren’t really my thing,”

 

The girl stopped, seeming to be surprised, “Really?” She asked tentatively, looking at me over her shoulder. It was the first time we’d made eye contact.

 

“Really, really. Plus, you’re awful young. How old are you, fifteen?” I asked, knowingly undercutting her age in a teasing manner & putting on my best ‘bitchy queen’ vocal tone.

 

“I’m seventeen.” she corrected me, seeming to relax. This poor girl had been defensive, not aggressive. I eyed her muscles and her long black hair, with her milk chocolate brown eyes. Her chest was full for a teenager, too. I immediately felt bad for her; she probably got harassed a lot. Admittedly, with how short the skirt was on her outfit yesterday, I’m regrettably not surprised. Men are pigs.

 

“I’m twenty-four. So, I’m not that old.” I replied, winking at her. She smiled for the first time. Yep, she was pretty. No wonder she’d been furious yesterday when the only beds were in a room with me, tall and tanned and very male. She probably thought I was some chicks-are-for-dicks douchebag all too commonly visiting shore towns for the surfing and the bikini babes. It made me cringe.

 

“Yeah, not old. Just ancient.” She chirped matter-of-factly. I made a face feigning offense, covering my open mouth with the tips of my fingers.  _ Le gasp!  _ She smiled back at me.

 

She giggled, shaking her head and returning to whatever was going on in her books on the table. I smiled, grabbing my bag and heading for the men’s showers and changing rooms to get ready for the day. I glanced around the room and made sure my Spinarak wasn’t on the loose, first, though. I’d have to correct that behavior in a hurry. 

 




 

I’d gotten ready into a pair of cargo shorts and tee shirt, nice and basic, and headed out back to the little arena space out back of the Pokemon Center. I caught the end of a battle between some dude in a wide hat, with a Beautifly, and my roommate Lyra, with a Pokemon I’d never seen before. I scanned it with my Pokedex as it Wing Attack’d it’s opponent into submission. 

 

“Crobat, the bat Pokemon. Over the course of evolution, its hind legs turned into wings. By alternately resting its front and rear wings, it can fly all day without having to stop. It flies so silently through the dark on its four wings that it may not be noticed even when nearby.” explained the nice Pokedex lady. Cool, purple Pokemon Bruce Banner. 

 

The guy shook Lyra’s hand after returning his Beautifly, and walked past me on his way to the Pokemon Center’s front doors to have his Pokemon treated.

 

I watched Lyra for a moment, the purple creature fluttering next to her. She petted it, and it crooned at her, like a cat, almost. The whole exchange was very sweet. Sweet and strong, what a combination. 

 

I minded my own business and sat down at a bench, pulling out a small tin of poffin treats I’d gotten from the vending machine inside. It was training time. 

 

First I started with Buizel. We worked on a new move, Swift. She was starting from scratch on this one, and for a treat I managed to get her to shoot a few stars off into the bushes by focusing the same way she did for Pursuit, but pushing it out of her chest. I most definitely was, in fact, reading from a guide I’d downloaded off the internet for training Buizels. I wasn’t suddenly an expert overnight, but she really liked these treats, so it was working out. We shot a few more stars, haphazardly aimed but more abundant by the time we finished, before I moved on to Driftloon.

 

I let Buizel go and splash in the pond, and she discovered a friend under the water! Lyra’s Golduck, Steele was apparently under the water the whole time. The two began to play, blowing bubbles at each other and splashing. 

 

Driftloon and I were going to be working on Ominous Wind, and I had drug a cardboard box out of the Pokemon Center’s dumpster to act as a target. Ominous Wind was a little outside of Driftloon’s abilities, but Driftloon’s other moves, Gust, Payback, Astonish, were simply not effective as offensive abilities. Payback was useful in a pinch, but I’d rather not have to rely on Driftloon taking a beating to be able to dish out the punishment. So, we worked on it for an hour solid, with no real results. Driftloon seemed to know what I was asking for, but no matter how hard it tried, it just couldn’t summon up the wind. All that came out was Gust. I gave it two poffins and a little affection. It was trying.

 

Now it was time for Spinarak. I left Driftloon out to help, and let Spinarak out of its ball. The Pokemon appeared on the grass in front of me in a flash of white light, chittering and cocking its head to the side curiously.

 

“Okay, Spinarak,” I started, the Pokemon perking up at its name, “I am Diego. This is Driftloon,” I explained, gesturing toward the low hanging balloon, “And that is Buizel.” I said, pointing to where Buizel was still splashing with Golduck. The little green spider followed my gaze, and I cleared my throat to catch its attention again. Its gaze found mine before I started once more.

 

“I caught you yesterday, after we battled in the road. I am sorry about that, I was just trying to untangle you from that woman’s hair.” The insect chirped and hissed, seeming be replying.

 

“I know you weren’t trying to hurt her,” I said, and the arachnid seemed to pause and settle. That was what it’d been communicating, “I’m a Pokemon trainer, obviously, and if you do not want to be part of my team, I will take you out into the forest and release you. What do you think?” I asked, eyeing the creature curiously. Communicating through this language barrier was seeming to get a little easier the more I tried to do it. Just a little, though.

 

Spinarak turned up to Driftloon, and through a string of chittering squeaky noises, with Driftloon occasionally adding something, I waited patiently.

 

The conversation seemed to be taking a while, so I excused myself and went over to Lyra, who was practicing some moves on the field with her Crobat. 

 

“Your Crobat is beautiful.” I said, hands in my pockets. They both seemed to notice me for the first time, though the bat looked flattered.

 

“Thanks! This is Johiro,” she said,  _ (Yo-hir-oh)  _ “He was the first Pokemon I ever caught, way back when he was just a little Zubat.” She said, affectionately rubbing the bat’s ears. 

 

“Do you give names to all of your Pokemon?” I asked, eyeing Driftloon and Spinarak, who were still conversing and occasionally casting glances my direction and thus evidently discussing me in some form. I hoped it was going well. 

 

“Yes, every single one. Could you imagine if humans walked around saying, ‘Human, human? Hu huma human?’” she asked, giggling, “Every Pokemon has its own unique and individual personality, and so I give each one a unique name.” She explained, returning her bat.

 

“Huh, interesting.” I said, pondering that, and looking back over to Spinarak and Driftloon who seemed to be looking at me expectantly, “Oh, gotta go.” I said, excusing myself and returning to the bench next to them.

 

“So, what’s up guys, have you decided to stick with us, Spinarak?” I asked, looking down to the bug, who nodded. I looked up to Driftloon and it nodded as well.

 

“Alright, awesome! Welcome to the team, Spinarak!” I said, excited. I gave them both a poffin. Driftloon’s disappeared into itself and Spinarak crushed it’s between it’s mandibles and then it somehow disappeared, further. Sometimes I really wish I’d finished school.

 

“Say,” I said, wondering, “Spinarak, are you a boy or a girl?” I asked. Spinarak chittered at me, and Driftloon lifted a heart ended string to point at Buizel.

 

“I should ask Buizel?” I asked, confused, and both Pokemon shook their heads, “Oh, you’re a girl like Buizel?” I asked, trying to understand. The little Spider nodded, its eyes closing as it chittered happily. I eyed Driftloon.

 

“Do you have a gender identity?” I asked, and Driftloon’s eyes bounced up and down, nodding, “Okay, well what is it?” I asked, and Driftloon lifted a gentle string to touch me in the chest.

 

“You’re a guy, like me?” I asked, and Driftloon’s little beady eyes bounced in a yes. A balloon had a gender. Okay, mind blown. 

 

“I will make sure to remember that.” I said, nodding. Spinarak climbed up onto the bench next to me, and I patted my lap. She stepped onto my lap and I gave her some gentle pets on her abdomen. She seemed to purr, closing her eyes. Her green body was fuzzy, covered densely in short, soft hairs with her exoskeleton beneath, of course. By contrast, her legs were hard, with few hairs. I pet her gently and Driftloon settled onto the bench on my other side as we watched Lyra and a massive plant Pokemon train razor leaf to one side, and Steele and Buizel play in the water to the other. The birds were chirping, it was a beautiful day. 

 

“Do you guys want names?” I asked out of nowhere, a while into the serenity of just being in the moment. 

 

Driftloon seemed indifferent, Spinarak was interested, however, and so I decided to give her one.

 

“Lily. How does that sound?” I said after a moment of contemplation, and the little Spider rubbed her head into my thigh like a cat, barely missing me with her horn and fangs and chittering. Driftloon nodded approval. 

 

“Well, that’s decided, then.” I said with a nod and a smile. Spinarak’s name was Lily. 

 

-

 

Lily’s web came in very handy whilst detaining two would-be escapee Shuppets and Banette. They might’ve been ghosts, but the web stuck to them fast, and Ian and the Professor were able to collect whatever samples they needed without being mauled by basically wild Pokemon. Lily did not want to be in her ball no matter what, now that I’d let her out, however, and insisted on laying out of the sun, attached to the side of my messenger bag. She hardly weighed anything, though, so I eventually gave up with getting hissed at by a giant green spider. She was turning out to be kind of a brat. 

 

It turned out there was nothing wrong with the Shuppets, so I returned them into their Pokeballs after promising to release them somewhere they’d like. Banette, however, did have something off about it. One of Ian’s many devices began to beep loudly, the light swinging from green into a bright red as it detected… something or another. Anyway, their samples were enough, though what samples they took from Ghost-type Pokemon was beyond me, so I returned Banette also. The Professor told me that if I wasn’t planning on raising or trading either of the Shuppets, I should release them. I made a mental note to make sure I did. For now, though, the trio returned to the Storage System with Dhelmise, who, since I had not had to fight horribly to subdue Banette, we decided I would go ahead and let out sooner rather than later.

 

We did, and though Lily had a much harder time tying down a Pokemon made up of seaweed tendrils, she was able to keep Dhelmise’s anchor locked down though, and while Dhelmise struggled with lifting it to attack us, Ian swooped in, got his sample, and apparently detected the same whatever he’d detected from Banette with his machine. Which was evidently very, very concerning. Seeming in a flash, I’d returned Dhelmise, who up to then was fighting ferociously to rip its anchor from the ground and swing it at anything, something, whoever was closest, squealing loudly and stretching its tendrils out in every direction, and hurried my way inside behind Ian and the Professor.

 

While I used the PC in the corner to replace Dhelmise into Storage, the Professor and Ian were chattering almost faster than I could believe was humanly possible, and just about all of it was going over my head. This went on in a fashion that made it seem like it wouldn’t be stopping any time soon, and so I left the two intellectuals to their business, and ducked out into the now still, warm, fragrant air. 

 

I giggled a little as Lily climbed from her spot under the flap of my messenger bag and up my back, her deft little legs clinging to my shirt. Her movements tickled, and I told her as much. My reply was a squeaky hiss and a nuzzle in the back. She was very affectionate, which was  _ really  _ downright strange-slash-creepy from a spider, and would take some getting used to, but it was something I figured I  _ could  _ get used to. 

 

I needed to do a little shopping, and no one seemed to notice that there was a bright green spider clung to my back while I did it. I bought more Pokemon food, a little camping kit that included real dinnerware. Hooray, no more disposable plates! Not to mention more food for me. 

 

Coming out of the shop, I realized that in this little town, I was pretty bored. Looking out at the ocean, I pondered for a moment before having an idea. I turned tail, went back to the PokeMart, and made one more purchase. 

 




 

I’d gotten a small grooming kit, and headed back to the Pokemon Center. I sat out back, off to the side of the little arena area, in a shady spot where you could smell the breeze, and let my Pokemon out. 

 

I had also immediately had a need to hold onto Driftloon’s strings so he didn’t get swept away by the ocean breeze. I gave his little balloon shape a scrub with a cool, damp cloth, first, and tied him onto my wrist. Don’t worry, I asked if I could, first. He seemed to enjoy the grooming.

 

Lily was busy exploring the tropical tree I’d been sitting against, and I was grooming Buizel. Her long body stretched lazily across my lap, her head lolling off to the side while I brushed her coat. I grinned at the little weasel, she was pretty wonderful. I marveled at how I’d at one point been terrified of Pokemon, all of them across the board, and now a Spinarak crawls around on my back and I laugh because it tickles. Jackie and Heather would be proud of me.

 

When Buizel was finished, she lay down in the sun a few feet from me and took a nap, her coat shining beautifully in the light. I called for Lily, who descended upon a web, and plopped gently onto my lap. I took a soft bristled brush to her carapace, and she closed her eyes, chittering in a pattern similar to the way a cat might purr. 

 

I was marvelling at how similar Pokemon and like, standard animals were, like cows and seagulls and hundreds of other things, when Lyra appeared from around the Pokemon Center and sat down with a huff dejectedly, throwing her bag down beside her. She straightened her skirt, staring at her painted nails for a moment before balling her hands into fists, clenching her eyes closed. Then, she started to cry. I didn’t think she’d seen me, all the way over here, easily a hundred or more meters off. I returned my Pokemon, all three of them, and gingerly plodded my way over toward her.

 

She noticed me just before I timidly said, “Hey,”

 

She jumped up off the bench, wiping her eyes and sniffling loudly, “What?!” She snapped at me, “What?” she repeated, a bit kinder this time. Her voice was skewed in timbre from her crying. 

 

“Lyra, are you okay?” I asked, my voice softened to as maternal tone as I could probably have managed.

 

“Does it look like I’m okay?” She all but screamed, and I noticed her starting to shake. She held herself, looking like she was going to run but just backed up shakily and plopped back onto the bench hard enough to appear painful. She was starting to panic.

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” I breathed, sliding onto the bench next to her to throw my arms around her in a gentle hug. I didn’t know what was wrong, but my friend was very upset.

 

Nurse Joy came around the corner, seeming out of breath, and found us like that. Lyra sobbing wholeheartedly into my chest. I looked up at her with a silent look that said,  _ What the fuck happened?! _

 

Nurse Joy mouthed a reply, over exaggerating so I could read her lips,  _ ‘Boy drama,’  _ she mouthed, before sitting down on the other side of Lyra and hugging her, as well, her arm stretching all the way over to my shoulder. We just sat there for a bit while she cried. After a fair while, a device clipped onto Nurse Joy’s big waist bow began to vibrate noisily, and she gave Lyra, who by this time was down to sniffles, a kiss on the head and jogged back to the entrance of the Pokemon Center.

 

“What happened, honey?” I asked after a long stretch of silence, wiping some damp hair from her face gently with a finger. Her makeup was trashed. Poor thing looked like she’d been through a storm.

 

She drew in a long, shaky breath, “Muh, muh my boyfriend. My boyfriend,” she began, “In S-sin-Sinnoh, he, he’s in school, school at the, the Pokemon T-Trainer’s School, and I didn’t go there, but we met at, at, at a tournament, and, and we started dating, and, and he’s still in school there. He wants to be a researcher, buh, but, but its a co-ed school, so, so there’s other girls there, other, other rich girls! Other rich girls who’s daddies can afford to send them to Trainer’s School instead of trudging through the muck and yuck of actually being a trainer, and, and, and,” she paused and took in a big breath, holding it for a moment, looking like she wanted to scream, “And he cheated on me! We were gonna get married, after I made league Champion, after he got his degree, but he told me on, on, on the phone!” She cried, beginning to sob again, “And she’s rich like him! And has Pokemon her daddy bought for her, and she plays in the stupid contests! And he, he, he, he slept with her! And we were supposed to, supposed to…” She trailed off, breaking into crying again. She didn’t need to tell me the rest, I got the picture. She’d was off out here putting in the time, and this stupid kid had gone off and shagged some floozy at school because it was more convenient than commitment.

 

“I’m so sorry, Lyra.” I said, rocking her slowly, “Boys are stupid.” I said, matter-of-factly. And, as a matter of fact, I knew it was true. I had  _ personal  _ experience.

 




 

After that tragic fiasco, I left Lyra in the caring hands of Nurse Joy again when Ian came to get me to bring me back to the lab so we could discuss what to do about whatever it was they had discovered. He tried to explain it to me, but his words kept going over my head and I lost track halfway through, so he eventually gave up and decided to let the Professor explain what was going on.

 

Apparently, one interesting thing about Banette and Dhelmise is that they were very, very young Ghost-type Pokemon. Something very uncommon, apparently. Since the origins of most Ghost-type Pokemon were widely only speculated about, with little in the way of facts, we could only guess at the reason for their spawning, but two completely different, unrelated species both having relatively recently spawned was unheard of. The Professor needed more data. He told me about a deactivated military base just North of Little Meadow, a town South of here. He said that from the reports he’d read, there was significant damage from shelling, and it was a dangerous and abandoned place to explore, but also some confirmed reports of aggressive Ghost-type Pokemon, there. He told me he would need me to go there, explore, capture some, and send them back to him. He asked me nicely to leave at my earliest convenience, but I could tell he was anxious for me to get a move on. He also paid me for the previous work I’d done, and offered me more money. Ian, the Professor, and I all left at the same time, taking our respective routes home. Ian and I walked together for most of it, the Professor leaving us early to turn down a dirt path toward a humble little cottage tucked between farmland. 

 

“So, what do you think?” Ian asked, “You gonna do it?” 

 

I nodded, “Yeah, I suppose I don’t really have any other direction to follow the wind than this. I know it’ll probably be dangerous, but,” I patted my belt, “I expect to be doing okay. My little team is shaping up quite nicely.” I finished confidently, flashing a smile his way. 

 

“When, um, when do you wanna leave?” He asked, looking off into the trees. 

 

I looked out to the horizon where the sunset was coloring the clouds an unreplicatable twisted mix of pink and orange, pondering for a moment before I replied.

 

“I’m not sure. Probably soon, I would think. If these Pokemon really are doing, - what did the Professor call it? Spawning? - then its possible that people could be in real danger, like with that Dhelmise sinking the fishing boats. Oh, did we ever find any of those, by the way?” I asked, changing the subject absentmindedly.

 

“We did.” Ian said, coldly, frowning at the dirt road, “Three of them, stacked a few hundred meters away from that beached ship at the bottom of the drop off.” 

 

I shuddered involuntarily, “Oh,” I said, the conversation falling silent, suddenly.

 

“What’re you up to this evening?” Ian asked after we had walked for a minute or two without words. He shrugged.

 

“I’m not sure. Do you wanna do dinner again?” He asked, an eyebrow cocked over his thick glasses.

 

“Sure,” I said, “I wanna check on my roommate first, though.” I had mentioned and summarized the debacle with Lyra to him in passing on the way to the lab. He nodded. 

 

“She’s welcome if she wants.” he offered. Aw, what a sweetheart!

 

“I’ll make sure and ask, or, did you wanna meet her? I bet she could do with a distraction.” I mused.

 

“I’m down. We’ve done all the work we can do on the Ghost-types until you catch us some more specimen.” He said, shrugging. I laughed.

 

“Oh, so you’re off work until I go to work?” I said, pushing him in the shoulder lightly. He laughed a little and pushed me back. 

-

 

Lyra came to lunch with us, and despite having been in an infectiously sour mood when we’d picked her up, she came around quickly as soon as we were talking about Pokemon. It was a pretty quick turn around, admittedly. Lyra’s team was a bit bigger than I gave her credit for. Apparently depending on the region and her upcoming matches, like in a tournament or something, she had more than 6 Pokemon that she maintained a relationship with and kept up on the training with so that she could be best equipped for whatever contests or tournament she was out to conquer. She says, and I quote, “I’m gonna be a Pokemon master someday, and nothing will get in my way,” and from the sounds of her accolades; from training all over Sinnoh, conquering the region’s 8 official Pokemon League gyms and participating in the Sinnoh Pokemon League, (she apparently beat the Elite Four, and was defeated by the current champ) she was well and truly on her way to doing so and her Pokemon were apparently just as tough as they looked.

 

Ian and Lyra discussed the moral dilemma of capturing as many Pokemon as you could, the ‘catch ‘em all’ mentality, as opposed to the opposing mentality believing that such a thing is unnecessary, greedy, wasteful, and potentially harmful to the environment as a whole. It was a nice debate, actually. Lyra wasn’t for ‘catch ‘em all’ any more than Ian and I, but she was playing devil’s advocate and doing a fair job. I sipped my green tea and listened for a while, before the waitress interrupted the two of them by bringing us our food. I’d gotten the fish & chips. Can’t beat a classic.

 

Ian and Lyra kept talking as we ate, and eventually Ian got to dancing around the edge of discussing our work with the Professor. I told him to just go ahead and spill it, and Lyra was quite intrigued by my work with the Ghost Pokemon on the island. She said the only place she had ever encountered Ghost-type Pokemon in Sinnoh was at someone named Fantina’s gym, and a place called Lost Tower. Ian related that there was a similar Ghastly inhabited tower said to be found in the Kanto region. They both discussed how strange it was that so many had been sighted, and Lyra had the excellent idea of perusing local social media to attempt to uncover Ghost-type Pokemon phenomenon that was going otherwise unreported. 

 

Anyway, to cut the whole thing short, Lyra is coming with us. She originally arrived in town to get her Xoren Pokedex upgrade, but we don’t have our own species’ of Pokemon, as all of ours can be found abroad, too, usually. Also, since the war was so relatively recent, we had three unofficial gyms in Xoren, and no Pokemon League representation to speak of. Therefore, she had no reason to be in our country but couldn’t up and leave until her paperwork was up and she could head to the next place. Not to mention the whole boyfriend thing, and she was in need of something new to do besides train and sulk, so she’s coming with us. 

 

Oh, yes, us; by us I mean Ian and I. No, not a royal ‘we’ situation, but the Professor also informed me that Ian would be accompanying me on my journey to the bombed out base, as well. So it would be Lyra, Ian, and I. 

 

As we made ready for the trip by way of packing rucksacks at the lab, Lyra arrived, her Golduck walking behind her carrying her messenger bag. The aesthetic of this young girl in her skirt, her Pokemon carrying her purse, watching Ian and I balance with our new 90 kilogram weights upon our back really threw into perspective some serious gender bias in our mission. I didn’t say anything, though, and when we were sure we were ready, we put everything down for one last time, leaving our packs piled just inside the door of the lab, and had the rest of the evening off. 

 

Lyra and I were having a discussion about the pointlessness of battling Pokemon with other Trainers. She was winning, somehow.

 

“I just don’t see why pitting our friends-slash-pets against each other in cage matches, for  _ fun,  _ is an ethical let alone feasible passtime for anyone, adults or children!” I said, defending myself. We had found the common spot behind the Pokemon Center to have this discussion. Ian was playing with Buizel, tossing her ball across the grass. The sight would’ve made my heart melt more, if I wasn’t caught up in my discussion.

 

“Battling is good and natural when the trainers can show restraint and respect for their Pokemon!” Lyra chirped, her chest puffing up, “Pokemon battle in the wild, of their own accord, over issues and dilemma which vex them already in the natural world, so by battling with them, we can refine those rough, natural skills into things of esteem, and help the individual Pokemon learn and grow in the way that’s best for them.” She said, eyeing me with an inquisitive facial expression, daring me to challenge her further.

 

I couldn’t. She’d won. Lyra stood and did a little cheer, jumping into the air. Ian clapped, I cast him a dejected glare, but he just smiled wide back at me. 

 

“You know, Lyra,” he said, tossing Buizel’s ball again, “I’m sure glad we have a bonafide Pokemon Master coming with us, since I’m not really sure what we’re going to experience once we arrive, there. Especially since we have to set up shop with the science stuff, we’re going to need someone with your kind of expertise.” He said, nodding. This was a repeat of something he’d said earlier, at the table. 

 

The teenage girl stood tall and proud, her fists on her hips over her pleated skirt, “Why thank you, Mister Ian.” She said, before breaking her heroic pose to curtsy. I chuckled at her.

 

“Okay, well then since battling is so great, why don’t we just have a battle, Lyra?” I asked, and she immediately busted a gut laughing. I thought perhaps she was joshing me, but when I noticed the tears leaking off her face I kind of got a little hurt.

 

“What’s so funny?” I asked, confused.

 

“Oh, oh man,” she said, carefully wiping her face, her makeup intact this time, “I would absolutely decimate your team, chief. I mean, just hurt these poor Pokemon.” She said, bending at the knee to pet Buizel as she ran to give Ian her ball again, “They are not ready for the kind of fight I would put them through.” She said, nodding, her arms crossed.

 

“Diego, I would listen to her if I were you. I watched footage of her battles from the Sinnoh League. She’s pretty incredible, and you haven’t even seen all of her Pokemon.” He offered.

 

I frowned, crossing my arms and returning my gaze to the ocean waves rolling in, “Okay, well. That makes sense. I guess it’s a good thing you’re on our side.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, what would you even do if we battled and my first Pokemon was Steelix?” Lyra chirped cutely.

 

“I dunno, what would I do?” I asked aloud, pulling out my Pokedex and searching ‘Steelix’

 

“Holy crap.” I said, my jaw dropping open, “This is a Pokemon? Not a fucking steel dragon of some kind? Geez, what a titan.” I said, reading over the averages for Steelix’s common length, weight, and other data. 

 

Lyra nodded cheerily, “See what I mean? You’re not ready for me.” She said.

 

I looked out to the ocean. The sun was just beginning to set across it. Tomorrow morning, the sun would rise waaaaaay on the other side of the horizon, and we’d awaken and begin our journey southward. I thought about how, over time, all things change. People, Pokemon, friends, jobs, everything changes. The things in life that are worth holding on to are the things that never change. I looked out over the lapping waves, glanced at my friends playing with Buizel, (apparently most Pokemon don’t play fetch) and thought about everything that's changed in my life in the last few years. All of the crazy, all of the insane, out of this world stuff that had happened to me, that most people wouldn’t believe if I told the truth to them, plain as day, and I looked past it. I looked past all that stuff that had changed for the better or worse and looked at the stuff that hadn’t changed. ‘Cause that stuff was me. 

 

“Yeah, maybe someday I will be.” I said, reflecting. I hadn’t known that I’d been looking, - or what I was looking for, - until I found it. Funny how things work out like that, sometimes. I changed the direction of my pseudo philosophical wonderings.I wondered what would come from tomorrow, and looked forward to it with an odd air of calm. Bring it on. 

 

  * END



 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought and if you want more.


End file.
